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PREFACE. 


At a time when the pressure of stirring events, 
and the urgency of public and private interests, 
render it increasingly desirable that every variety 
of labour should be attended with an immediate 
and adequate return; I feel that some apology 
is necessary for the presumption of inviting the 
attention of the public to.a work, in which I have 
been compelled to enter into the apparently insig- 
nificant detail of familiar and ordinary life. 

The often-repeated truth—that “trifles make 
the sum of human things,” must plead my ex- 
cuse; as well as the fact, that while our libraries 
are stored with books of excellent advice on gene- 
ral conduct, we have no single work containing 
the particular minutiz of practical duty, to which 
1 have felt myself called upon to invite the con- 
sideration of the young women of the present 

A2 


. PREFACE, 


day. We have many valuable dissertations upon 
female character, as exhibited on the broad scale 
of virtue; but no direct definition of those minor 
parts of domestic and social intercourse, which 
strengthen into habit, and consequently form the 
basis of moral character. 

It is worthy of remark also, that these writers 
have addressed their observations almost exclu- 
sively to ladies, or occasionally to those who hold 
a subordinate situation under the influence of 
iadies; while that estimable class of females who 
might be more specifically denominated women, 
and who yet enjoy the privilege of liberal educa- 
tion, with exemption from the pecuniary necessi- 
ties of labour, are almost wholly overlooked. 

It is from a high estimate of the importance of 
this class in upholding the moral worth of our 
country, that I have addressed my remarks 
especially to them; and in order to do so with 
more effect, | have ventured to penetrate into the 
familiar scenes of domestic life, and have thus en- 


deavoured to lay bare some of the causes which 


PREFACE. 


frequently lie hidden at the root of general con- 
duct. 

Had I not known before the commencement of 
this work, its progress would soon have convinced 
me, that in order to perform my task with candour 
and faithfulness, I must renounce all idea of what 
is called fine writing; because the very nature of 
the duty I have undertaken, restricts me to the 
consideration of subjects, too minute in them- 
selves to admit of their being expatiated upon 
with eloquence by the writer—too familiar to pro- 
duce upon the reader any startling effect.. tlad 
I even felt within myself a capabuiiy for treating 
any subject in this manner, I should have been 
willing in this instance to resign all opportunity of 
such display, if, by so doing, I could more clearly 
point out to my countrywomen, by what means 
they may best meet that pressing exigency of the 
times, which so urgently demands.a fresh exercise 
of moral power on their part, to win back to the 
homes of England, the boasted felicity for which 


they once were famed. 


PREFACE, 


Anxious as I am to avoid the charge of unneces- 
sary triflmg on a subject so serious as the moral 
worth of the women of England, there is beyond 
this a consideration of far higher importance, to 
which I would invite the candid attention of the 
serious part of the public, while I offer, what 
appears to me a sufficient apology, for having 
written a book on the subject of morals, without 
having made it strictly religious. I should be 
sorry indeed, if, by so doing, I brought upon 
mnyself the suspicion of yielding for one moment to 
the beli-f that there is any other sure foundation 
for good morals, than correct religious principle; 
but I do believe, that, with the Divine blessing, a 
foundation may be laid in very early life, before 
the heart has been illuminated by Divine truth, 
or has experienced its renovating power, for those 
domestic habits, and relative duties, which in after 
life will materially assist the developement of the 
christian character. And I am the more convinced 
of this, because we sometimes see, in sincere and 


devoted Christians, such peculiarities of conduct 


PREFACE. 


as materially hinder their usefulness—such early- 
formed habits, as they themselves would be glad 
to escape from, but which continue to cling around 
them in their earthly course, like the clustering of 
weeds in the traveller’s path. | 

It may perhaps more fully illustrate my view of 
this important subject, to say that those who would 
train up young people without the cultivation of © 
moral habits, trusting solely to the future influence 
of religion upon their hearts, are like mariners, 
who, while they wait for their bark to be sxiely 
guided out to sea, allow their sails.ts swing idly 
in the wind, their cordage to become entangled, 
and the general outfit of their vessel to suffer 
injury and decay; so that when the pilot comes 
on board, they lose much of the advantage of his 
services, and fail to derive the anticipated benefit 
from his presence. 

All that I would venture to recommend with 
regard to morals, is, that the order and right 
government of the vessel should, as far as is pos- 


sible, be maintained, so that when the hope of 


PREFACE. 


better and surer guidance is realized, and the 
heavenly Pilot in his own good time arrives, 
all things may be ready—nothing out of order, 
and nothing wanting, for a safe and prosperous 
voyage. 

It is therefore solely to the cultivation of habits 
that I have confined my attention—to the minor 
morals of domestic life. And I have done this, 
because there are so many abler pens than mine 
employed in teaching and enforcing the essential 
truibs of religion; because there is an evident 
tendency in society, as it exists in the present 
day, to overlook these minor points; and because 
it is impossible for them to be neglected, without 


serious injury to the Christian character. 


SARAH STICKNEY ELLIS. 


PENTONVILLE, FRB. 1839. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER (L PAGE, 

Characteristics of the Women of England ............ssesse00- 9 
CHAPTER II. 

Influence of the Women of England ......ccsececseeeseeeen snes 38 
CHAPTER IIL | 

PPR TIRIOADICALION) 5504 ty ahisnds pee cenicscussnseausiep accandes CODEN 6] 
CHAPTER IV. 

MeMNCMMERTTRUGHIIICLS Cov ec ects ccsaices cauteserss vetsess,'esncerescokahe s 92 
CHAPTER V. 

Conversation of the Women of England .............. ree a 118 
CHAPTER VI. 

Conversation .......seseee. favs cee UORGNURA TUNG s vaaradesdsvee ssa ¥os ork 145 
CHAPTER VII. 

Domestic Habits—Consideration and Kindness ............... 174 


CHAPTER VIII. 
Domestic Habits— Consideration and Kindness ...............204 


CHAPTER IX. 
Domestic Habits—Consideration and Kindness ....... peepee 238 


CHAPTER X, 
Domestic Habits—Consideration and Kindness 
CHAPTER XI. 
Social Intercourse—Caprice—Affectation—Love of Admi- 
FREUD rena sasersosehens beeereeate Saravana vhigectwes ben’ eee eee yas dO 
CHAPTER XII. 
Public Opinion—Pecuniary Resources—Integrity ............309 
CHAPTER XIII. 
Habits and Character—Intellectual At:ainments—Employ- 
ment of Time—Moral Courage—Right Balance of Mind...333 


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THE 


WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER I. 


CHARACTERISTICS OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 


Every country has its peculiar characteristics, not 
only of climate and scenery, of public institutions, 
government, and laws; but. every country has also 
its moral characteristics, upon which is founded 
its true title to a station, either high or low, in the 
scale of nations. 

The national characteristics of England are the 
perpetual boast of her patriotic sons; and there is 
one especially, which it behoves all British sub- 
jects not only to exult in, but to cherish and main- 
tain. Leaving the justice of her laws, the extent 
of her commerce, and the amount of her resources, 
to the orator, the statesman, and the political 
economist, there yet remains one of the noblest 
features in her national character, which may not 
improperly be regarded as within the compass of a 

B | 


10 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


woman’s understanding, and the province of a 
woman’s pen. It is the domestic character of 
England—the home comforts, and fireside virtues 
for which she is so justly celebrated. ‘These I 
hope to be able to speak of without presumption, 
as intimately associated with, and dependent upon, 
the moral feelings and habits of the women of this 
favoured country. 

It is therefore in reference to these alone that I 
shall endeavour to treat the subject of England’s 
nationality; and in order to do this with more 
precision, it is necessary to draw the line of obser- 
vation within a narrower circle, and to describe 
what are the characteristics of the women of 
England. I ought, perhaps, in strict propriety, 
to say what were their characteristics ; because I 
would justify the obtrusiveness of a work like this, 
by first premising that the women of England are 
deteriorating in their moral character, and that 
false notions of refinement are rendering them 
less influential, less useful, and less happy than 
they were. 

In speaking of what English women were, I 
would not be understood to refer to what they were 
a century ago. Facilities in the way of mental 
improvement have greatly increased during this — 
period. In connexion with moral discipline, these 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. ll 


facilities are invaluable; but I consider the two 
excellencies as having been combined in the great- 
est perfection in the general average of women who 
have now attained to middle, or rather advanced 
age. When the cultivation of the mental faculties 
had so far advanced as to take precedence of the 
moral, by leaving no time for domestic usefulness, 
and the practice of personal exertion in the way of 
promoting general happiness, the character of the 
women of England assumed a different aspect, 
which is now beginning to tell upon society in the 
sickly sensibilities, the feeble frames, and the use- 
less habits of the rising generation. 

In stating this humiliating fact, I must be blind 
indeed to the most cheering aspect of modern 
society, not to perceive that there are signal in- 
stances of women who carry about with them into 
every sphere of domestic duty, even the most 
humble and obscure, the accomplishments and 
refinements of modern education; and who deem 
it rather an honour than a degradation to be per- 
mitted to add to the sum of human happiness, by 
diffusing the embellishments of mind and manners 
over the homely and familiar aspect of every-day 
existence. 

Such, however, do not constitute the majority 
of the female population of Great Britain. By far 


[i CHARACTERISTICS OF 


the greater portion of the young ladies (for they 
are no longer women) of the present day, are dis- 
tinguished by a morbid listlessness of mind and 
body, except when under the influence of stimulus, 
a constant pining for excitement, and an eagerness 
to escape from every thing like practical and indi- 
vidual duty. Of course, I speak of those whose 
minds are not under the influence of religious prin- 
ciple. Would that the exception could extend to 
all who profess to be governed by this principle ! 
Gentle, inoffensive, delicate, and passively ami- 
able as many young ladies are, it seems an ungra- 
cious task to attempt to rouse them from their 
summer dream; and were it not that wintry days 
will come, and the surface of life be ruffled, and 
the mariner,.even she who steers the smallest bark, 
be put upon the inquiry for what port she is really 
bound—were it not that the ery of utter helpless- 
ness is of no avail in rescuing from the waters of 
affliction, and the plea of ignorance unheard upon 
the far-extending and deep ocean of experience, 
and the question of accountability perpetually 
sounding, like the voice of a warning spirit, above 
the storms and the billows of this lower world— 
I would be one of the very last to call the dreamer 
back to a consciousness of present things. But 
this state of listless indifference, my sisters, must 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 13 


not be. You have deep responsibilities, you have 
urgent claims; a nation’s moral wealth is in your 
keeping. Let us inquire then in what way it may 
be best preserved. Let us consider what you are, 
and have been, and by what peculiarities of feeling 
and habit you have been able to throw so much 
additional weight into the scale of your country’s 
worth. 

In order to speak with precision of the charac- 
teristics of any class of people, it is necessary to 
confine our attention as much as possible to that 
portion of the class where such characteristics are 
most prominent; and, avoiding the two extremes 
where circumstances not peculiar to that class are 
supposed to operate, to take the middle or inter- 
vening portion as a specimen of the whole. 

Napoleon Buonaparte was accustomed to speak 
of the English nation as a “nation of shop- 
keepers ;” and when we consider the number, the 
influence, and the respectability of that portion 
of the inhabitants who are, directly or indirectly, 
connected with our trade and merchandise, it does 
indeed appear to constitute the mass of English 
society, and may justly be considered as exhibiting 
the most striking and unequivocal proofs of what are 
the peculiar characteristics of the people of England. 
It is not therefore from the aristocracy of the land 


14 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


that the characteristics of English women should 
be taken; because the higher the rank, and the 
greater the facilities of communication with other 
countries, the more prevalent are foreign manners, 
and modes of thinking and acting common to that 
class of society in other countries. Neither is it 
entirely amongst the indigent and most laborious 
of the community, that we can with propriety 
look for those strong features of nationality which 
stamp the moral character of different nations ; 
because the urgency of mere physical wants, and 
the pressure of constant and necessary labour, 
naturally induce a certain degree of resemblance 
in social feelings and domestic habits, amongst 
people similarly circumstanced, to whatever coun- 
try they may belong. 

In looking around, then, upon our “ nation of 
shop-keepers,” we readily perceive that by dividing 
society into three classes, as regards what is com- 
monly called rank, the middle class must include so 
vast a portion of the intelligence and moral power 
of the country at large, that it may not improperly 
be designated the pillar of our nation’s strength, 
its base being the important class of the laborious 
poor, and its rich and highly ornamental capital, 
the ancient nobility of the land. In no other 
country is society thus beautifully proportioned, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 15 


and England should beware of any deviation from 
the order and symmetry of her national column. 
There never was a more short-sighted view of 
society, than that by which the women of our 
country have lately learned to look with envious 
eyes upon their superiors in rank, to rival their 
attainments, to imitate their manners, and to pine 
for the luxuries they enjoy; and consequently to 
look down with contempt upon the appliances 
and means of bumbler happiness. The women 
of England were once better satisfied with that 
instrumentality of Divine wisdom by which they 
were placed in their proper sphere. ‘They were 
satisfied_to do with their own hands what they 
now leave undone, or repine that they “cannot 
have others to do for them. 
A system of philosophy was once promulgated 
in France, by which it was attempted to be proved 
that so much of the power and the cleverness of 
man was attributable to his hand, that, but for 
a slight difference in the formation of this organ 
in some of the inferior animals, they would have 








ee 


been entitled to rank in the same class with him. 
Whatever may be said of the capabilities of man’s 
hand, I believe the feminine qualification of being 
able to use the hand willingly and well, has a 
great deal to do with the moral influence of 


16 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


woman. ‘The personal services she is thus en- 
abled to render, enhance her value in the domestic 
circle, and when such services are performed with 
the energy of a sound understanding, and the 
grace of an accomplished mind—above all, with 
the disinterested kindness of a generous heart— 
they not only dignify the performer, but confer 
happiness, as well as obligation. Indeed, so great 
is the charm of personal attentions arising spon- 
taneously from the heart, that women of the high- 
est rank in society, and far removed from the 
necessity of individual exertion, are frequently 
observed to adopt habits of personal kindness 
towards others, not only as the surest means of 
giving pleasure, but as a natural and grateful 
relief to the overflowing of their own affections. 
There is a principle in woman’s love, that ren- 
ders it impossible for her to be satisfied without 
actually doing something for the object of her 
regard. I speak only of woman in her refined 
and elevated character. Vanity can satiate itself 
with admiration, and selfishness can feed upon 
services received; but woman’s love is an ever- 
flowing and inexhaustible fountain, that must be 
perpetually imparting from the source of its own 
blessedness. It needs but slight experience to 
know, that the mere act of loving our fellow-crea- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 17 


tures does little towards the promotion of their 
happiness. ‘The human heart is not so credulous 
as to continue to believe in affection without prac- 
tical proof. ‘Thus the interchange of mutual kind 
offices begets a confidence which cannot be made 
to grow ont of any other foundation; and while 
gratitude is added to the connecting link, the 
character on each side is strengthened by the 
personal energy required for the performance of 
every duty. 

There may exist great sympathy, kindness, 
and benevolence of feeling, without the power of 
bringing any of these emotions into exercise for 
the benefit of others. They exist as emotions 
unly. And thus the means, which appear to us as 
the most gracious and benignant of any that could 
nave been adopted by our heavenly Father, for 
rousing us into necessary exertion, are permitted 
to die away, fruitless and unproductive, in the 
breast where they ought to have operated as a 
blessing and a means of happiness to others. 

It is not uncommon to find negatively amiable 
individuals, who sink under a weight of indolence, 
and suffer from innate selfishness a gradual con- 
traction of mind, perpetually lamenting their own 
inability to do good. It would be ungenerous to 
doubt their sincerity in these regrets. We can 

B2 


138 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


therefore only conclude, that the want of habits 
of personal usefulness has rendered them mentally 
imbecile, and physically inert; whereas, had the 
same individuals been early accustomed to bodily 
exertion, promptly and cheerfully performed on 
the spur of the moment, without waiting to ques- 
tion whether it was agreeable or not, the very act 
of exertion would have become a pleasure, and the 
benevolent purposes to which such exertions might 
be applied, a source of the highest enjoyment. 
Time was when the women of England were 
accustomed, almost from their childhood, to the 
constant employment of their hands. It might 
be sometimes in elaborate works of faney, now 
ridiculed for their want of taste, and still more 
frequently in household avocations, now fallen 
into disuse from their incompatibility with modern 
refinement. I cannot speak with unqualified praise 
of all the objects on which they bestowed their 
attention, but, if it were possible, I would write 
in characters of gold the indisputable fact, that 
the habits of industry and personal exertion thus 
acquired, gave them a strength and dignity of 
character, a power of usefulness, and a capability 
of doing good, which the higher theories of modern 
education fail to impart. They were in some 
instances less qualified for travelling on the con- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 19 


tinent without an interpreter; but the women of 
whom I am speaking seldom went abroad. Their 
sphere of action was at their own firesides, and 
the world in which they moved was one where 
pleasure of the highest, purest order, naturally 
and necessarily arises out of acts of duty faith- 
fully performed. 

Perhaps it may be necessary to be more spe- 
cific in describing the class of women to which 
this work relates. It is, then, strictly speaking, 
to those who belong to that great mass of the 
population of England which is connected with 
trade and manufactures, as well as to the wives 
and daughters of professional men of limited in- 
comes; or, in order to make the application more 
direct, to that portion of it who are restricted to 
the services of from one to four domestics,—who, 
on the one hand, enjoy the advantages of a liberal 
education, and, on the other, have no pretension 
to family rank. It is, however, impossible but 
that many deviations from these lines of demarca- 
tion must occur, in consequence of the great 
change in their pecuniary circumstances, which 
many families during a short period experience, 
and the indefinite order of rank and station in 
which the elegances of life are enjoyed, or its pri- 
vations endured. ‘There is also this peculiarity 


20 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


to be taken into account, in our view of English 
society, that the acquisition of wealth, with the 
advantages it procures, is all that 1s necessary for 
advancement to aristocratic dignity; while, on the 
other hand, so completely is the nation dependent 
upon her commercial resources, that it is no 
uncommon thing to see.individuals who lately 
ranked amongst the aristocracy, suddenly driven, 
by the failure of some bank or some mercantile 
speculation, into the lowest walks of life, and 
compelled to mingle with the laborious poor. 

These facts are strong evidence in favour of a 
system of conduct that would enable all women to 
sink gracefully, and without murmuring against 
providence, into a lower grade of society. It is 
easy to learn to enjoy, but it is not easy to learn 
to suffer. 

Any woman of respectable education, possess- 
ing a well-regulated mind, might move with ease 
and dignity into a higher sphere than that to 
which she had been accustomed; but few women 
whose hands have been idle all their lives, can feel 
themselves compelled to do the necessary labour 
of a household, without a feeling of indescribable 
hardship, too frequently productive of a secret 
murmuring against the instrumentality by which 
she was reduced to such a lot. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 2) 


It is from the class of females above described, 
that we naturally look for the highest tone of 
moral feeling, because they are at the same time 
removed from the pressing necessities of absolute 
poverty, and admitted to the intellectual privileges 
of the great; and thus, while they enjoy every 
facility in the way of acquiring knowledge, it is 
their still higher privilege not to be exempt from 
the domestic duties which call forth the best 
energies of the female character. 

Where domestics abound, and there is a hired 
hand for every kindly office, it would be a work of 
supererogation for the mistress of the house to 
step forward, and assist with her own; but where 
domestics are few, and the individuals who com- 
pose the household are thrown upon the consider- 
ation of the mothers, wives, and daughters for 
their daily comfort, innumerable channels are 
opened for the overflow of those floods of human 
kindness, which it is one of the happiest and 
most ennobling duties of woman to administer to 
the weary frame, and to pour into the wounded 
mind. 

It is perhaps the nearest approach we can 
make towards any thing like a definition of what 
is most striking in the characteristics of the 
women of England, to say, that the nature of 


pie CHARACTERISTICS OF 


their domestic circumstances is such as to invest 
their characters with the threefold recommenda- 
tion of promptitude in action, energy of thought, 
and benevolence of feeling. With all the respon- 
sibilities of family comfort and social enjoyment 
resting upon them, and unaided by those troops 
of menials who throng the halls of the affluent and 
the great, they are kept alive to the necessity of 
making their own personal exertions conducive 
to the great end of promoting the happiness of 
those around them. They cannot sink into su- 
pineness, or suffer any of their daily duties to be 
neglected, but some beloved member of the house- 
hold is made to feel the consequences, by enduring 
inconveniences which it is alike their pride and their 
pleasure to remove. ‘he frequently recurring avo- 
cations of domestic life admit of no delay. When 
the performance of any kindly office has to be asked 
for, solicited, and re-solicited, it loses more than 
half its charm. It is therefore strictly in keeping 
with the fine tone of an elevated character, to be 
beforehand with expectation, and thus to show, 
by the most delicate yet most effectual of all 
human means, that the object of attention, even 
when unheard and unseen, has been the subject 
of kind and affectionate solicitude. 

By experience in these apparently minute af- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 23 


fairs, a woman of kindly feeling and properly dis- 
ciplined mind, soon learns to regulate her actions 
also according to the principles of true wisdom, 
and hence arises that energy of thought for which 
the women of England are so peculiarly distin- 
guished. Every passing event, however insig- 
nificant to the eye of the world, has its crisis, 
every occurrence its emergency, every cause its 
effect; and upon these she has to calculate with 
precision, or the machinery of household com- 
fort is arrested in its movements, and thrown into 
disorder. 

Woman, however, would but ill supply the 
place appointed her by providence, were she en- 
dowed with no other faculties than those of promp- 
titude in action, and energy of thought.. Valuable 
as these may be, they would render her but a 
cold and cheerless companion, without the kindly 
affections and tender offices that sweeten human 
life. It is a high privilege, then, which the 
women of England enjoy, to be necessarily, and 
by the force of circumstances, thrown upon their 
affections, for the rule of their conduct in daily 
life. What shall I do to gratify myself—to be 
admired—or to vary the tenor of my existence ?” 
are not the questions which a woman of right 
feeling asks on first awaking to the avocations of 


24 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


the day. Much more congenial to the highest 
attributes of woman’s character, are inquiries such 
as these: ‘ How shall I endeavour through this 
day to turn the time, the health, and the means 
permitted me to enjoy, to the best account? Is 
any one sick, I must visit their chamber without 
delay, and try to give their apartment an air of 
comfort, by arranging such things as the wearied 
nurse may not have thought of. Is any one 
about to set off on a journey, I must see that the 
early meal is spread, or prepare it with my own 
hands, in order that the servant, who was working 
late last night, may profit by unbroken rest. Did 
I fail in what was kind or considerate to any of 
the family yesterday ; I will meet them this morn- 
ing with a cordial welcome, and show, in the most 
delicate way I can, that I am anxious to atone 
for the past. Was any one exhausted by the last 
day’s exertion, I will be an hour before them this 
morning, and let them see that their labour is 
so much in advance. Or, if nothing extraordi- 
nary occurs to claim my attention, I will meet 
the family with a consciousness that, being the 
least engaged of any member of it, I am conse- 
quently the most at liberty to devote myself to the 
general good of the whole, by cultivating cheerful 
conversation, adapting myself to the prevailing 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 25 


tone of feeling, and leading those who are least 
happy, to think and speak of what will make them 
more so.” 

Who can believe that days, months, and years 
spent in a continual course of thought and action 
similar to this, will not produce a powerful effect 
upon the character; and not upon the individual 
who thinks, and acts, alone, but upon all to whom 
her influence extends? In short, the customs of 
English society have so constituted women the 
guardians of the comfort of their homes, that, like 
the Vestals of old, they cannot allow the lamp 
they cherish to be extinguished, or to fail for want 
of oil, without an equal share of degradation 
attaching to their names. - 

In other countries, where the domestic lamp is 
voluntarily put out, in order to allow the women 
to resort to the opera, or the public festival, they 
are not only careless about their home com- 
forts, but necessarily ignorant of the high degree 
of excellence to which they might be raised. In 
England there is a kind of science of good house- 
hold management, which, if it consisted merely in 
keeping the house respectable in its physical cha- 
racter, might be left to the effectual working out 
of hired hands; but, happily for the women of 
England, there is a philosophy in this science, by 
which all their highest and best feelings are called 


26 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


into exercise. Not only must the house be neat 
and clean, but it must be so ordered as to suit the 
tastes of all, as far as may be, without annoyance 
or offence to any. Not only must a constant sys- 
tem of activity be established, but peace must be 
preserved, or happiness will be destroyed. Not 
only must elegance be called in, to adorn and 
beautify the whole, but strict integrity must be 
maintained by the minutest calculation as to law- 
ful means, and self, and self-gratification, must be 
made the yielding point in every disputed case. 
Not only must an appearance of outward order 
and comfort be kept up, but around every domes- 
tic scene there must be a strong wall of confidence, 
which no internal suspicion can undermine, no 
external enemy break through. 

Good household management, conducted on 
this plan, is indeed a science well worthy of atten- 
tion. It comprises so much, as to invest it with 
an air of difficulty on the first view; but no woman 
ean reasonably complain of incapability, because 
nature has endowed the sex with perceptions so 
lively and acute, that where benevolence is the 
impulse, and principle the foundation upon which 
they act, experience will soon teach them by what 
means they may best accomplish the end they 
have in view. 

They will soon learn by experience, that selfish. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. pi 


ness produces selfishness, that indolence increases 
with every hour of indulgence, that what is left 
undone because it is difficult to-day, will be doubly 
difficult to-morrow; that kindness and compassion, 
to answer any desirable end, must one be practi- 
eal, the other delicate, in its nature; that affection 
must be kept alive by ministering to its necessities; 
and, above all, that religion must be recommend- 
ed by consistency of character and conduct. 

It is the strong evidence of truths like these, 
wrought out of their daily experience, and forced 
upon them as principles of action, which renders 
the women of England what they are, or rather 
were, and which fits them for becoming able instru- 
ments in the promotion of public and private good ; 
for all must allow, that it is to the indefatigable 
exertions and faithful labours of women of this 
class, that England chiefly owes the support of 
some of her noblest and most benevolent institu- 
tions; while it is to their unobtrusive and untiring 
efforts, that the unfortunate and afflicted often are 
indebted for the only sympathy—the only kind 
attention that ever reaches their obscure abodes, 
or diffuses cheerfulness and comfort through the 
solitary chambers of suffering and sickness—the 
only aid that relieves the victims of penury and 
want—the only consolation that ever visits the 


28 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


desolate and degraded in their wretchedness and 
despair. 

I acknowledge there are noble instances in the 
annals of English history, and perhaps never 
more than at the present day, of women of the 
highest rank devoting their time and their pro- 
perty to objects of benevolence; but from the very 
nature of their early habits and domestic circum- 
stances, they are upon the whole less fitted for 
practical usefulness, than those who move within 
a lower sphere. Iam also fully sensible of the 
charities which abound amongst the poor; and 
often have I been led to compare the actual merit 
of the magnificent bestowments of those who know 
not one comfort the less, with that of the poor 
man’s offering and the widow’s mite. Still my 
opinion remains the same, that in the situation of 
the middle class of women in England, are 
combined advantages in the formation of character, 
to which they owe much of their distinction, and 
their country much of her moral worth. 

The true English woman, accustomed to bear 
about with her, her energies for daily use, her 
affections for daily happiness, and her delicate 
perceptions for hourly aids in the discovery of 
what is best to do or to leave undone, by this means 
obtains an insight into human nature, a power of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 29 


adaptation, and a readiness of application of the 
right means to the desired end, which not only 
render her the most valuable friend, but the most 
delightful of fireside companions, because she is 
thus enabled to point the plainest moral, and 
adorn the simplest tale, with all those freshly- 
formed ideas which arise out of actual experience, 
and the contemplation of unvarnished truth. 

Amongst their other characteristics, the women 
of England are frequently spoken of as plebeian 
in their manners, and cold in their affections; but 
their unpolished and occasionally embarrassed 
manner, as frequently conceals a delicacy that 
imparts the most refined and elevated sentiment 
to their familiar acts of duty and regard; and 
those who know them best are compelled to 
acknowledge, that all the noblest passions, the 
deepest feelings, and the highest aspirations of 
humanity, may be found witliin the brooding quiet 
of an English woman’s heart. 

There are flowers that burst upon us, and 
startle the eye with the splendour of their beauty ; 
we gaze until we are dazzled, and then turn away, 
remembering nothing but their gorgeous hues. 
There are others that refresh the traveller by the 
sweetness they diffuse—but he has to search for 
the source of his delight. He finds it embedded 


30 ’ CHARACTERISTICS OF 


amongst green leaves; it may be less lovely than 
he had anticipated, in its form and colour, but, 
oh! how welcome is the memory of that flower, 
when the evening breeze is again made fragrant 
with its perfume. 

It is thus that the unpretending virtues of the 
female character force themselves upon our regard, 
so that the woman ferse/f is nothing in comparison 
with her attributes ; and we remember less the cele- 
brated belle, than her who made us happy. 

Nor is it by their frequent and faithful services 
alone, that English women are distinguished. 
The greater proportion of them were diligent and 
thoughtful readers. It was not with them a point 
of importance to devour every book that was 
written as soon as it came out. ‘They were satis- 
fied to single out the best, and, making them- 
selves familiar with every page, conversed with 
the writer as with a friend, and felt that, with 
minds superior, but yet congenial to their own, 
they could make friends indeed. In this manner 
their solitude was cheered, their hours of labour 
sweetened, and their conversation rendered at 
once piquant and instructive. This was preserved 
from the technicalities of common-place by the 
peculiar nature of their social and mental habits. 
They were accustomed to think for themselves ; 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 3l 


and, deprived in some measure of access to what 
might be esteemed the highest authorities in mat- 
ters of sentiment and taste, they drew their con- 
clusions from reasoning, and their reasoning from 
actual observation. It is true, their sphere of 
observation was microscopic, compared with that 
of the individual who enjoys the means of travel- 
ling from court to court, and of mixing with the 
polished society of every nation; but an acute 
vision directed to immediate objects, whatever they 
may be, will often discover as much of the won- 
ders of creation, and supply the intelligent mind 
with food for reflection as valuable, as that which 
is the result of a widely extended view, where the 
objects, though more numerous, are consequently 
less distinct. 

Thus the domestic woman, moving in a com- 
paratively limited circle, is not necessarily confined 
to a limited number of ideas, but can often expa- 
tiate upon subjects of mere local interest with a 
vigour of intellect, a freshness of feeling, and a 
liveliness of fancy, which create in the mind of 
the uninitiated stranger, a perfect longing to be 
admitted into the home associations from whence 
are derived such a world of amusement, and so 
unfailing a relief from the severer duties of 


life. 


32 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


It is not from the acquisition of ideas, but from 
the application of them, that conversation derives 
its greatest charm. ‘Thus an exceedingly well- 
informed talker may be indescribably tedious ; 
while one who is comparatively ignorant, as 
regards mere facts, having brought to bear, upon 
every subject contemplated, a lively imagination 
combined with a sound judgment, and a memory 
stored, not only with dates and historical events, 
but with strong and clear impressions of familiar 
things, may rivet the attention of his hearers, and 
startle them, for the time, into a distinctness of 
impression which imparts a degree of delightful 
complacency both to those who listen, and to the 
entertainer himself. 

In the exercise of this kind of tact, the women 
of England, when they can be induced to cast off 
their shyness and reserve, are peculiarly excellent, 
and there is consequently an originality in their 
humour, a firmness in their reasoning, and a tone 
of delicacy in their perceptions, scarcely to be 
found elsewhere in the same degree, and combined 
in the same manner; nor should it ever be for- 
gotten, in speaking of their peculiar merits, that 
the freshness and the charm of their conversation 
is reserved for their own firesides, for moments 
when the wearied framed is most in need of exhi- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 33 


laration, when the mind is thrown upon its own 
resources for the restoration of its exhausted 
powers, and when home associations and home 
affections are the balm which the wounded spirit 
needs. 

But above all other characteristics of the 
women of England, the strong moral feeling per- 
vading even their most trifling and familiar actions, 
ought to be mentioned as most conducive to the 
maintenance of that high place which they so 
justly claim in the society of their native land. 
The apparent coldness and reserve of [English 
women ought only to be regarded as a means 
adopted for the preservation of their purity of 
mind,—an evil, if you choose to call it so, but 
an evil of so mild a nature, in comparison with 
that which it wards off, that it may with truth be 
said to “Jean to virtue’s side.” 

I have said before, that the sphere of a domestic 
woman’s observation is microscopic. She is there- 
fore sensible of defects within that sphere, which, 
to a more extended vision, would be imperceptible. 
If she looked abroad for her happiness, she would 
be less disturbed by any falling off at home. If 
her interest and her energies were diffused through 
a wider range, she would be less alive to the 
minuter claims upon her attention. It is possible 

C 


34 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


she may sometimes attach too much importance to 
the minutize of her own domestic world, especially 
when her mind is imperfectly cultivated and 
informed: but, on the other hand, there arises, 
from the same cause, a scrupulous exactness, a 
studious observance, of the means of happiness, a 
delicacy of perception, a purity of mind, and a 
dignified correctness of manner, for which the 
women of England are unrivalled by those of any 
other nation. 

By a certain class of individuals, their general 
conduct. may possibly be regarded as too prudish 
to be strictly in keeping with enlarged and liberal 
views of human life. ‘These are such as object to 
find the strict principles of female action carried 
out towards themselves. But let every man who 
disputes the right foundation of this system of con- 
duct, imagine in the place of the woman whose 
retiring shyness provokes his contempt, his sister 
or his friend; and, while he substitutes another 
being, similarly constituted, for himself, he will 
immediately perceive that the boundary-line of 
safety, beyond which no true friend of woman ever 
tempted her to pass, is drawn many degrees within 
that which he had marked out for his own inter- 
course with the female sex. Nor is it in the small 
and separate deviations from this strict line of pro- 


+ 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 35 


priety, that any great degree of culpability exists. 
Each individual act may be simple in itself, and 
almost too insignificant for remark ; it is habit that 
stamps the character, and custom that renders 
common. Who then can guard too scrupulously 
against the first opening, the almost imperceptible 
change of manners, by which the whole aspect of 
domestic life would be altered? And who would 
not rather that English women should be guarded 
by a wall of scruples, than allowed to degenerate 
into less worthy, and less efficient supporters of 
their country’s moral worth? 

Were it only in their intercourse with mixea 
society that English women were distinguished by 
this strict regard to the proprieties of life, it might 
with some justice fall under the ban of prudery ; 
but happily for them, it extends to every sphere 
of action in which they move, discountenancing 
vice in every form, and investing social duty with 
that true moral dignity which it ought ever to 
possess. 

I am not ignorant that this can only be consist- 
ently carried out under the influence of personal 
religion. I must, therefore, be understood to 
speak with limitations, and as comparing my own 
countrywomen with those of other nations—as ac- 
knowledging melancholy exceptions, and not only 


36 CHARACTERISTICS OF 


fervently desiring that every one professed a reli- 
gion capable of leading them in a more excellent 
way, but that all who do profess that religion were 
studiously careful in these minor points. Still I 
do believe that the women of England are not 
surpassed by those of any other country for their 
clear perception of the right and the wrong of 
common and familiar things, for their reference 
to principle in the ordinary affairs of life, and for 
their united maintenance of that social order, 
sound integrity, and domestic peace, which consti- 
tute the foundation of all that is most valuable in 
the society of our native land. 

Much as I have said of the influence of the 
domestic habits of my countrywomen, it is, after 
ali, to the prevalence of religious instruction, and 
the operation of religious principle upon the heart, 
that the consistent maintenance of their high tone 
of moral character is to be attributed. Amongst 
families in the middle class of society in this 
country, those who live without regard to religion 
are exceptions to the general rule; while the great 
proportion of individuals thus circumstanced are 
not only accustomed to give their time and atten- 
tion to religious observances, but, there is every 
reason to believe, are materially affected in their 
lives and conduct by the operation of christian 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. oF 


principles upon their own minds. Women are said 
to be more easily brought under this influence 
than men; and we consequently see, in places of 
public worship, and on all occasions in which 2 
religious object is the motive for exertion, a greater 
proportion of women than of men. ‘The same 
proportion may possibly be observed in places of 
amusement, and where objects less desirable claim 
the attention of the public; but this ought not 
to render us insensible to the high privileges of 
our favoured country, where there is so much to 
interest, to please, and to instruct, in what is 
eonnected with the highest and holiest uses to 
which we can devote the talents committed to our 
trust. 


388 INFLUENCE OF 


CHAPTER II. 


INFLUENCE OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 


Ir might form a subject of interesting inquiry, 
how far the manifold advantages possessed by 
England as a country, derive their origin remotely 
from the cause already described; but the imme- 
diate object of the present work is to show how 
intimate is the connexion which exists between 
the women of England, and the moral character 
maintained by their country in the scale of 
nations. For a woman to undertake such a 
task, may at first sight appear like an act of 
presumption; yet when it is considered that the 
appropriate business of men is to direct, and 
expatiate upon, those expansive and important 
measures for which their capabilities are more 
peculiarly adapted, and that to women belongs 
the minute and particular observance of all those 
trifles which fill up the sum of human happi- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 39 


ness or misery, it may surely be deemed pardon- 
able for a woman to solicit the serious attention of 
ner own sex, while she endeavours to prove that 
it is the minor morals of domestic life which give 
the tone to English character, and that over this 
sphere of duty it is her peculiar province to pre- 
side. 

Aware that the word preside, used as it is here, 
may produce a startling effect upon the ear of 
man, I must endeavour to bespeak his forbearance, 
by assuring him, that the highest aim of the writer 
does not extend beyond the act of warning the 
women of England back to their domestic duties, 
in order that they may become better wives, more 
useful daughters, and mothers, who by their 
example shall bequeath a rich inheritance to those 
who follow in their steps. 

On the other hand, I am equally aware that a 
work such as I am proposing to myself must be 
liable to the condemnation of all modern young 
ladies, as a homely, uninteresting book, and wholly 
unsuited to the present enlightened times. I must 
therefore endeavour also to conciliate their good 
will, by assuring them, that all which is most 
lovely, poetical, and interesting, nay, even heroic 
in women, derives its existence from the source 
I am now about to open to their view, with all the 


49 INFLUENCE OF 


ability [am able to command ;—and would it 
were a hundredfold, for their sakes ! 

The kind of encouragement I would hold out 
to them is, however, of a nature so widely different 
from the compliments to which they are too much 
accustomed, that I feel the difficulty existing in 
the present day, of stimulating a laudable ambi- 
tion in the female mind, without the aid of public 
praise, or printed records of the actual product 
of their meritorious exertions. ‘The sphere of 
woman’s happiest and most beneficial influence is 
a domestic one, but it is not easy to award even 
to her quiet and unobtrusive virtues that meed of 
approbation which they really deserve, without: 
exciting a desire to forsake the homely household 
duties of the family circle, to practise such as are 
more conspicuous, and consequently more produc- 
tive of an immediate harvest of applause. 

I say this with all kindness, and I desire to say 
it with all gentleness, to the young, the amiable, 
and the—vain; at the same time that my percep- 
tion of the temptation to which they are exposed, 
enhances my value for the principle that zs able 
to withstand it, and increases my admiration of 
those noble-minded women who are able to carry 
forward, with exemplary patience and _persever- 
ance, the public offices of benevolence, without 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. Al 


sacrificing their home duties, and who thus prove 
to the world, that the perfection of female cha- 
racter is a combination of private and public 
virtue,—of domestic charity, and zeal for the 
temporal and eternal happiness of the whole 
human race. 

No one can be farther than the writer of these 
pages from wishing to point out as objects of 
laudable emulation those domestic drudges, who, 
because of some affinity between culinary opera- 
tions, and the natural tone and character of their 
own minds, prefer the kitchen to the drawing- 
room,—of their own free choice, employ their 
whole lives in the constant bustle of providing for 
mere animal appetite, and waste their ingenuity 
in the creation of new wants and wishes, which all 
their faculties again are taxed to supply. ‘This 
class of individuals have, by asad mistake in our 
nomenclature, been called wseful, and hence, in 
some degree, may arise the unpopular reception 
which this valuable word is apt to meet with in 
female society. 

It does not require much consideration to per- 
ceive that these are not the women to give a high 
moral tone to the national character of England; 
yet so entirely do human actions derive their dig- 
nity or their meanness from the motives by which 

c2 


42 INFLUENCE OF 


they are prompted, that it is no violation of truth 
to say, the most servile drudgery may be ennobled 
by the self-sacrifice, the patience, the cheerful 
submission to duty, with which it is performed. 
Thus a high-minded and intellectual woman is 
never more truly great than when willingly and 
judiciously performing kind offices for the sick ; 
and much as may be said, and said justly, in praise 
of the public virtues of women, the voice of nature 
is so powerful in every human heart, that could 
the question of superiority on these two points be 
universally proposed, a response would be heard 
throughout the world, in favour of woman in her 
private and domestic character. 

Nor would the higher and more expansive 
powers of usefulness with which women are en- 
dowed, suffer from want of exercise, did they devote 
themselves assiduously to their domestic duties. 
I am rather inclined to think they would receive 
additional vigour from the healthy tone of their 
own minds, and the leisure and liberty afforded by 
the systematic regularity of their household affairs. 
Time would never hang heavily on their hands, 
but each moment being husbanded with care, and 
every agent acting under their influence being 
properly chosen and instructed, they would find 
ample opportunity to go forth on errands of mercy, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 43 


secure that in their absence, the machinery they 
had set in motion would still continue to work, 
and to work well. 

But if, on the other hand, all was confusion and 
neglect at. home—filial appeals unanswered— 
domestic comforts uncaleulated—husbands, sons, 
and brothers, referred to servants for all the little 
offices of social kindness, in order that the ladies 
of the family might hurry away at the appointed 
time to some committee-room, scientific lecture, 
or public assembly ; however laudable the object 
for which they met, there would be sufficient cause 
why their cheeks should be mantled with the blush 
of burning shame when they heard the women of 
England and their virtues spoken of in that high 
tone of approbation and applause, which those who 
aspire only to be about their Master's business 
will feel little pleasure in listenimg to, and which 
those whose charity has not begun at home, ought 
never to appropriate to themselves. 

It is a widely mistaken notion to suppose that 
the sphere of usefulness recommended here, is a 
humiliating and degraded one. As if the earth 
that fosters and nourishes in its lovely bosom the 
roots of all the plants and trees which ornament 
the garden of the world, feeding them from her 
secret storehouse with supplies that never fail, 


44 INFLUENCE OF 


were less important, in the economy of vegetation, 
than the sun that brings to light their verdure 
and their flowers, or the genial atmosphere that 
perfects their growth, and diffuses their perfume 
abroad upon the earth. To carry out the simile 
still farther, it is but just to give the preference to 
that element which, in the absence of all other 
favouring circumstances, withholds not its support; 
but when the sun is shrouded, and the showers 
forget to fall, and blighting winds go forth, and 
the hand of culture is withdrawn, still opens out 
its hidden fountains, and yields up its resourees, 
to invigorate, to cherish, and sustain. 

It would be an easy and a grateful task, thus, 
by metaphor and illustration, to prove the various 
excellencies and amiable peculiarities of woman, 
did not the utility of the present work demand a 
more minute and homely detail of that which con- 
stitutes her practical and individual duty. It is 
too much the custom with writers, to speak in 
these general terms of the loveliness of the female 
character; as if woman were some fragrant flower, 
created only to bloom, and exhale in sweets; 
when perhaps these very writers are themselves 
most strict in requiring that the domestic drudgery 
of their own households should each day be faith- 
fully filled up. How much more generous, just, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 45 


and noble it would be to deal fairly by woman in 
these matters, and to tell her that to be indivi- 
dually, what she is praised for being in general, 
it is necessary for her to lay aside all her natural 
caprice, her love of self-indulgence, her vanity, 
her indolence—in short, her very se/f—and assum- 
ing a new nature, which nothing less than watch- 
fulness and prayer can enable her constantly to 
maintain, to spend her mental and moral-capabi- 
lities in devising means for promoting the happiness 
of others, while her own derives a remote and 
secondary existence from theirs. 

If an admiration almost unbounded for the per- 
fection of female character, with a sisterly parti- 
cipation in all the errors and weaknesses to which 
she is liable, and a profound sympathy with all 
that she is necessarily compelled to feel and suffer, 
are qualifications for the task I have undertaken, 
these certainly are points on which I yield to 
none; but at the same time that I do my feeble 
best, I must deeply regret that so few are the 
voices lifted up in her defence against the danger- 
ous influence of popular applause, and the still 
more dangerous tendency of modern habits, and 
modern education. Perhaps it is not to be ex- 
pected that those who write most powerfully, should 
most clearly perceive the influence of the one, or 


46 INFLUENCE OF 


the tendency of the other; because the very 
strength and consistency of their own minds must 
in some measure exempt them from participation 
ineither. While, therefore, in the art of reasoning, 
a writer like myself must be painfully sensible of 
her own deficiency ; in sympathy of feeling, she is 
perhaps the better qualified to address the weakest 
of her sex. 

With such, it is a favourite plea, brought for- 
ward in extenuation of their own uselessness, that 
they have no influence—that they are not leading 
women—that society takes no note of them ;— 
forgetting, while they shelter themselves beneath 
these indolent excuses, that the very feather on 
the stream may serve to warn the doubtful mari- 
ner of the rapid and fatal current by which his 
bark might be hurried to destruction. It is, 
moreover, from amongst this class that wives are 
more frequently chosen; for there is a peculiarity 
in men—I would fain call it Lenevolence—which 
inclines them to offer the benefit of their protec- 
tion to the most helpless and dependent of the 
female sex; and therefore it is upon this class that 
the duty of training up the young most frequently 
devolves; not certainly upon the naturally imbe~ 
cile, but upon the uncalculating creatures whose 
non-exercise of their own mental and moral facul- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 47 


ties renders them not only willing to be led 
through the experience of life, but thankful to be 
relieved from the responsibility of thinking and 
acting for themselves. 

It is an important consideration, that from such 
women as these, myriads of immortal beings derive 
that early bias of character, which under Provi- 
dence decides their fate, not only in this world, 
but in the world to come. And yet they flutter 
on, and say they have no influence—they do not 
aspire to be leading women—they are in society 
but as grains of sand on the sea-shore. Would 
they but pause one moment to ask how will this 
plea avail them, when, as daughters without grati- 
tude, friends without good faith, wives without 
consideration, and mothers without piety, they 
stand before the bar of judgment, to render an 
account of the talents committed to their trust ! 
Have they not parents, to whom they might study 
to repay the debt of care and kindness accumu- 
lated in their childhood ?—perhaps to whom they 
might overpay this debt, by assisting to remove 
such obstacles as apparently intercept the line of 
duty, and by endeavouring to alleviate the per- 
plexing cares which too often obscure the path of 
life? Have they not their young friendships, for 
those sunny hours when the heart expands itself 


48 INFLUENCE OF 


in the genial atmosphere of mutual love, and 
shrinks not from revealing its very weaknesses 
and errors; so that a faithful hand has but to 
touch its tender chords, and conscience is awak- 
ened, and then instruction may be poured in, and 
medicine may be administered, and the messenger 
of peace, with healing on his wings, may be in- 
vited to come in, and make that heart his home? 
Have they not known the secrets of some faithful 
bosom laid bare before them in a deeper and yet 
more confiding attachment, when, however insig- 
nificant they might be to the world in general, 
they held an influence almost unbounded over one 
human being, and could pour in, for the bane or 
the blessing of that bosom, according to the foun- 
tain from whence their own was supplied, either 
draughts of bitterness, or floods of light? Have 
they not bound themselves by a sacred and en- 
during bond, to be to one fellow-traveller along 
the path of life, a companion on his journey, and, 
as far as ability might be granted them, a guide 
and a help in the doubts and the difficulties of his 
way? Under these urgent and serious responsi- 
bilities, have they not been appealed to, both in 
words and in looks, and in the silent language of 
the heart, for that promised help? And how has 
the appeal been answered? Above all, have they 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND, 49 


not, many of them, had the feeble steps of infancy 
committed to their care—the pure unsullied page 
of childhood presented to them for its first and 
most durable inscription?’—and what have they 
written there? It is vain to plead their inability, 
and say they knew not what to write, and there- 
fore left the tablet untouched, or sent away the 
vacant page to be filled up by other hands. Time 
will prove to them they have written, if not by 
any direct instrumentality, by their example, their 
conversation, and the natural influence of mind on 
mind. Experience will prove to them they have 
written; and the transcript of what they have 
written will be treasured up, either for or against 
them, amongst the awful records of eternity. 

It is therefore not only false in reasoning, but 
wrong in principle, for women to assert, as they 
not unfrequently do with a degree of puerile satis- 
faction, that they have no influence. An influence 
fraught either with good or evil, they must have ; 
and though the one may be above their ambition, 
and the other beyond their fears, by neglecting to 
obtain an influence which shall be beneficial to 
society, they necessarily assume a bad one: just 
in the same proportion as their selfishness, indo- 
lence, or vacuity of mind, render them in youth 
an easy prey to every species of unamiable tem- 


50 INFLUENCE OF 


per; in middle age the melancholy victims of 
mental disease, and, long before the curtain of 
death conceals their follies from the world, a 
burden and a bane to society at large. 

A superficial observer might rank with this 
class many of those exemplary women, who pass to 
and fro upon the earth with noisless step, whose 
names are never heard, and who, even in society, 
if they attempt to speak, have scarcely the ability 
to command an attentive audience. Yet amongst 
this unpretending class are found striking and 
noble instances of women, who, apparently feeble 
and insignificant, when called into action by press- 
ing and peculiar circumstances, can accomplish 
great and glorious purposes, supported and carried © 
forward by that most valuable of all faculties— 
moral power. And just in proportion as women 
cultivate this faculty (under the blessing of heaven) 
independently of all personal attractions, and un- 
accompanied by any high attainments in learning 
or art, is their influence over their fellow-creatures, 
and consequently their power of doing good. 

It is not to be persumed that women possesss 
more moral power than men; but happily for them, 
such are their early impressions, associations, and 
general position in the world, that their moral 
feelings are less liable to be impaired by the pecu- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. | 


niary objects which too often constitute the chief 
end of man, and which, even under the limitations 
of better principle, necessarily engage a large 
portion of his thoughts. There are many humble- 
minded women, not remarkable for any particular 
intellectual endowments, who yet possess so clear 
a sense of the right and wrong of individual actions, 
as to be of essential service in aiding the judg- 
ments of their husbands, brothers, or sons, in those 
intricate affairs in which it is sometimes difficult 
to dissever worldly wisdom from religious duty. ~ 
‘To men belongs the potent—(I had almost said 
the omnipotent) consideration of worldly aggran- 
disement; and it is constantly misleading their 
steps, closing their ears against the voice of con- 
science, and beguiling them with the promise of 
peace, where peace was never found. Long before 
the boy has learned to exult in the dignity of the 
man, his mind has become familiarized to the habit 
of investing with supreme importance, all consi- 
derations relating to the acquisition of wealth. 
He hears on the Sabbath, and on stated occasions, 
when men meet for that especial purpose, of a 
God to be worshipped, a Saviour to be trusted‘in, 
and a holy law to be observed ; but he sees before 
him, every day and every hour, a strife, which is 
nothing less than deadly to the highest impulses 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
AF URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 


52 INFLUENCE OF 


of the soul, after another god—the mammon of 
unrighteousness—the moloch of this world; and 
believing rather what men do, than what they 
preach, he learns too soon to mingle with the 
living mass, and to unite his labours with theirs. 
To unite? Alas! there is no union in the great 
field of action in which he is engaged; but envy, 
and hatred, and opposition, to the close of the 
day—every man’s hand against his brother, and 
each struggling to exalt himself, not merely by 
trampling upon his fallen foe, but by usurping 
the place of his weaker brother, who faints by his 
side, from not having brought an equal portion of 
strength into the conflict, and who is consequently 
borne down by numbers, hurried over, and for- 
gotten. 

This may be an extreme, but it is scarcely an 
exaggerated picture of the engagements of men 
of business in the present day. And surely they 
now need more than ever all the assistance which 
Providence has kindly provided, to win them away 
from this warfare, to remind them that they are 
hastening on towards a world into which none of 
the treasures they are amassing can be admitted ; 
and, next to those holier influences which operate 
through the medium of revelation, or through the 
mysterious instrumentality of Divine love, I have 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 53 


little hesitation in saying, that the society of 
woman in her highest moral capacity, is best cal- 
culated to effect this purpose. 

- How often has man returned to his home with 
a mind confused by the many voices, which in the 
mart, the exchange, or the public assembly, have 
addressed themselves to his inborn selfishness, or 
his worldly pride; and while his integrity was 
shaken, and his resolution gave way beneath the 
pressure of apparent necessity, or the insidious 
pretences of expediency, he has stood corrected 
before the clear eye of woman, as it looked directly 
to the naked truth, and detected the lurking evil 
- of the specious act he was about to commit. Nay, 
so potent may have become this secret influence, 
that he may have borne it about with him like a 
kind of second conscience, for mental reference, 
and spiritual counsel, in moments of trial; and 
when the snares of the world were around him, 
and temptations from within and without have 
bribed over the witness in his own bosom, he has 
thought of the humble monitress who sat alone, 
guarding the fireside comforts of his distant home ; 
and the remembrance of her character, clothed in 
moral beauty, has scattered the clouds before his 
mental vision, and sent him back to that belcved 
home, a wiser and a better man. 


54 INFLUENCE OF 


The women of England, possessing the grand 
privilege of being better instructed than those of 
any other country, in the minutiz of domestic com- 
fort, have obtained a degree of importance in 
society far beyond what their unobtrusive virtues 
would appear to claim. The long-established 
customs of their country have placed in their 
hands the high and holy duty of cherishing 
and protecting the minor morals of life, from 
whence springs all that is elevated in purpose, 
and glorious in action. The sphere of their direct 
personal influence is central, and consequently 
small; but its extreme operations are as widely 
extended as the range of human feeling. ‘They 
may be less striking in society than some of the 
women of other countries, and may feel themselves, 
on brilliant and stirring occasions, as simple, rude, 
and unsophisticated in the popular science of 
excitement; but as far as the noble daring of 
Britain has sent forth her adventurous sons, and 
that is to every point of danger on the habitable 
globe, they have borne along with them a gene- 
rosity, a disinterestedness, and a moral courage, 
derived in so small measure from the female in- 
fluence of their native country. 

It is a fact. well worthy of our most serious 
attention, and one which bears immediately upon 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 5S 


the subject under consideration, that the present 
state of our national affairs is such as to indicate 
that the influence of woman in counteracting the 
growing evils of society is about to be more needed 
than ever. 

In our imperfect state of being, we seldom 
attain any great or national good without its 
accompaniment of evil; and every improvement 
proposed for the general weal, has, upon some 
individual, or some class of individuals, an effect 
which it requires a fresh exercise of energy and 
principle to guard against. Thus the great faci- 
lities of communication, not only throughout our 
own country, but with distant parts of the world, 
are rousing men of every description to tenfold 
exertion in the field of competition in which they 
are engaged; so that their whole being is becom- 
ing swallowed up in efforts and calculations relat- 
ing to their pecuniary success. If to grow tardy 
or indifferent in the race were only to lose the 
goal, many would be glad to pause; but such is 
the nature of commerce and trade, as at present 
carried on in this country, that to slacken in exer- 
tion, is altogether to fail. I would fain hope and 
believe of my countrymen, that many of the 
rational and enlightened would now be willing to 
reap smaller gains, if by so doing they could enjoy 


56 INFLUENCE OF 


more leisure. But a business only half attended 
to, soon ceases to be a business at all; and the 
man of enlightened understanding, who neglects his, 
for the sake of hours of leisure, must be content 
to spend them in the debtor’s department of a jail. 

Thus, it is not with single individuals that the 
blame can be made to rest. The fault is m the 
system; and happy will it be for thousands of 
immortal souls, when this system shall correct 
itself. In the mean time, may it not be said to 
be the especial duty of women to look around 
them, and see in what way they can counteract 
this evil, by calling back the attention of man to 
those sunnier spots in his existence, by which the 
growth of his moral feelings have been encouraged, 
and his heart improved ? 

We cannot believe of the fathers who watched 
over our childhood, of the husbands who shared 
our intellectual pursuits, of the brothers who went 
hand in hand with us in our love of poetry and 
nature, that they are all gone over to the side of 
mammon, that there does not lurk in some corner 
of their hearts a secret longing to return; yet 
every morning brings the same hurried and 
indifferent parting, every evening the same jaded, 
speechless, welcomeless return—until we almost 
fail to recognize the man, in the machine. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 57 

English homes have been much boasted of by 
English people, both at home and abroad. What 
would a foreigner think of those neat, and some- 
times elegant residences, which form a circle of 
comparative gentility around our cities and our 
trading towns? What would he think, when told 
that the fathers of those families have not time to 
see their children, except on the Sabbath-day? 
and that the mothers, impatient, and anxious to 
consult them about some of their domestic plans, 
nave to wait, perhaps for days, before they can 
find them for five minutes disengaged, either from 
actual exertion, or from that sleep which neces- 
sarily steals upon them immediately after the 
over-excitement of the day has permitted them 
a moment of repose. 

And these are rational, intellectual, accountable, 
and immortal beings, undergoing a course of disci- 
pline by which they are to be fitted for eternal 
existence! What woman can look on without 
asking—* Is there nothing I can do, to call them 
back ?” Surely there is; but it never can be 
done by the cultivation of those faculties which 
contribute only to selfish gratification. Since her 
society is shared for so short a time, she must 
endeavour to make those moments more rich in 
blessing ; and since her influence is limited to so 

D 


38 INFLUENCE OF 

small a range of immediate operation, it should 
be rendered so potent as to mingle with the whole 
existence of those she loves. 

Will an increase of intellectual attainments, or a 
higher style of accomplishments, effect this pur- 
pose? Will the common-place frivolities of morn- 
ing calls, or an interminable range of superficial 
reading, enable them to assist their brothers, their 
husbands, or their sons in becoming happier and 
better men ? 

No: let the aspect of society be what it may, 
man is a social being, and beneath the hard surface 
he puts on, to fit him for the wear and tear of 
every day, he has a heart as true to the kindly 
affections of our nature, as that of woman—as 
true, though not as suddenly awakened to every 
pressing call. He has therefore need of all her 
sisterly services, and, under the pressure of the 
present times, he needs them more than ever, to 
foster in his nature, and establish in his character, 
that higher tone of feeling, without which he can 
enjoy nothing beyond a kind of animal existence 
—but with which, he may faithfully pursue the 
necessary avocations of the day, and keep as it 
were a separate soul for his family, his social duty, 
and his God. 

There is another point of consideration by which 


ta 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 59 


this necessity for a higher degree of female influ- 
ence is greatly increased, and it is one which com- 
prises much that is interesting to those who aspire 
to be the supporters of their country’s worth. 
The British throne being now graced by a female 
sovereign, the auspicious promise of whose early 
years seems to form a new era in the annals of 
our nation, and to inspire with brighter hopes and 
firmer confidence the patriot bosoms of her expect- 
ant people; it is surely not a time for the female 
part of the community to fall away from the high 
standard of moral excellence, to which they have 
been accustomed to look, in the formation of their 
domestic habits. Rather let them show forth 
the benefits arising from their more enlightened 
systems of education, by proving to their youthful 
sovereign, that whatever plan she may think it right 
to sanction for the moral advancement of her sub- 
jects, and the promotion of their true interests as 
an intelligent and happy people, will be welcomed 
by every female heart throughout her realm, and 
faithfully supported in every British home by the 
female influence prevailing there. 

It will be the business of the writer, through 
the whole of the succeeding pages of this work, to 
endeavour to point out, how the women of England 
may render this important service, not only to the 


60 INFLUENCE OF 


members of their own households, but to the com- 
munity at large: and if I fail in arousing them to 
bring, as with one mind, their united powers to 
stem the popular torrent now threatening to under- 
mine the strong foundation of England’s moral 
worth, it will not be for want of earnestness in the 
cause, but because I am not endowed with talent 
equal to the task. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 61 


CHAPTER III. 


MODERN EDUCATION. 


{fn writing on the subject of modern education, I 
cannot help entertaining a fear lest some remarks 
I may in candour feel constrained to make, should 
be construed into disrespect towards that truly 
praiseworthy and laborious portion of the com- 
munity, employed in conducting this education, 
and pursuing, with laudable endeavours, what is 
generally believed to be the best method of train- 
ing up the young women of the present day. 
Such, however, is the real state of my own senti- 
ments, that I have long been accustomed to consi- 
der this class of individuals as not only entitled to 
the highest pecuniary consideration, but equally so 
to the first place in society, to the gratitude of their 
fellow-creatures, and to the respect of mankind in 
general, who, both as individuals, and as a com- 







62 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


munity, are deeply indebted to them 
indefatigable and often ill-requited séFvii 

A woman of cultivated understanding 
religious principle, when engaged im resp 
sible task of educating the rising peneralem in 
reality fills one of the most responsible stations 
to which a human being can aspire; and nothing 
can more clearly indicate a low state of public 
morals than the vulgar disrespect and parsimonious 
remuneration with which the agents employed in 
education are sometimes requited. 

It is with what is taught, not with those who 
teach, that I am daring enough to find fault. It 
may be that I am taking an unenlightened and 
prejudiced. view of the subject; yet, such is the 
strong conviction of my own mind, that I cannot 
rest without attempting to prove that the present 
education of the women of England does not fit 
them for faithfully performing the duties which 
devolve upon them immediately after their leaving 
school, and throughout the whole of their after 
lives—does not convert them from helpless chil- 
dren, into such characters as all women must be, 
in order to be either esteemed or admired. 

Nor are their teachers accountable for this. It 
is the fashion of the day—it is the ambition of the 
times, that all people should, as far as possible, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 63 


learn all things of which the human intellect takes 
cognizance; and what would be the consternation 
of parents whose daughter should return home to 
them from school unskilled in modern accomplish- 
ments,—to whom her governess should say, “ It 
is true I have been unable to make your child a 
proficient either in French or Latin, nor is she 
very apt at the use of the globes, but she has 
been pre-eminent amongst my scholars for her 
freedom from selfishness, and she possesses a 
nobility of feeling that will never allow her to be 
the victim of meanness, or the slave of grovelling 
desires.” ¥ 

In order to ascertain what kind of education is 
most effective in making woman what she ought 
to be, the best method is to inquire into the cha- 
racter, station, and peculiar duties of woman 
throughout the largest portion of her earthly 
career; and then ask, for what she is most valued, 
admired, and beloved ? 

In answer to this, I have little hesitation in 
saying,—For her disinterested kindness. Look 
at all the heroines, whether of romance or reality 
—at all the female characters that are held up to 
universal admiration—at all who have gone down 
to honoured graves, amongst the tears and the 
lamentations of their survivors. Have these been 


6-4 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


the learned, the accomplished women; the women 
who could speak many languages, who could solve 
problems, and elucidate systems of philosophy ? 
No: or if they have, they have also been women 
who were dignified with the majesty of moral 
greatness—women who regarded not themselves, 
their own feebleness, or their own susceptibility 
of pain, but who, endued with an almost super- 
human energy, could trample under-foot every 
impediment that intervened between them and 
the accomplishment of some great object upon 
which their hopes were fixed, while that object 
was wholly uncennected with their own personal 
exaltation or enjoyment, and related only to some 
beloved object, whose suffering was their sorrow, 
whose good their gain. 

Woman, with all her accumulation of minute 
disquietudes, her weakness, and her sensibility, is 
but a meagre item in the catalogue of humanity ; 
but, roused by a sufficient motive to forget all 
these, or, rather, continually forgetting them be- 
cause she has other and nobler thoughts to occupy 
her mind, woman is truly and majestically great. 

Never yet, however, was woman great, because 
she had great acquirements; -nor can she ever be 
great in herself—personally, and without instru- 
mentality—as an object, not an agent. | 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 65 


From the beginning to the end of school educa- 
tion, the improvement of se/f, so far as relates to 
intellectual attainments, is made the rule and the 
- motive of all that is done. Rewards are appointed 
and portioned out for what has been learned, not 
what has been imparted. To gain, is the uni- 
versal order of the establishment; and those who 
have heaped together the greatest sum of know- 
ledge are usually regarded as the most merito- 
rious. Excellent discourses may be delivered by 
the preceptress upon the christian duties of bene- 
volence and disinterested love; but the whole sys- 
tem is one of pure selfishness, fed by accumulation, 
and rewarded by applause. ‘To be at the head of 
the class, to gain the ticket or the prize, are the 
points of universal ambition; and few individuals, 
amongst the community of aspirants, are taught 
to look forward with a rational presentiment to that 
- future, when their merit will be to give the place 
of honour to others, and their happiness to give it 
to those who are more worthy than themselves. } 

We will not assert that no one entertains such 
thoughts; for there is a voice in woman’s heart 
too strong for edication—a principle which the 
march of intellect is unable to overthrow. 

Retiring from the emulous throng, we some- 
times find a little, despised, neglected girl, who 

2 D2 


66 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


has won no prize, obtained no smile of approba- 
tion from her superiors. She is a dull girl, who 
learns slowly, and cannot be taught so as to keep 
up with the rest without incalculable pains. ‘The 
fact is, she has no great wish to keep up with 
them: she only wants to be loved and trusted by 
her teachers; and oh! how does she wish, with 
tears, and almost with prayers, that they would 
love and trust her, and give her credit for doing 
her best. Beyond this she is indifferent; she has 
no motive but that of pleasing others, for trying 
to be clever; and she is quite satisfied that her 
friend, the most ambitious girl in the school, 
should obtain all the honours without her compe- 
tition. Indeed, she feels as though it scarcely 
would be delicate, scarcely kind in her, to try 
so much to advance before her friend; and she 
gently falls back, is reproved for her neglect, and, 
finally, despised. 

I knew a girl who was one of the best gram- 
marians in a large school, whose friend was pecu- 
liarly defective in that particular branch of learn- 
ing. Once every year the order of the class was 
reversed, the girl who held the highest place 
exchanging situations with the lowest, and thus 
affording all an equal chance of obtaining honours. 
The usual order of the class was soon restored, 


) 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 67 


except that the good grammarian was always ex- 
pected by her friend to whisper in her ear a suit- 
able answer to every question proposed; and as 
this girl necessarily retrograded to the place to 
which her own ignorance entitled her, her friend 
felt bound by affection and kindness to relieve her 
distress every time the alarming question came to 
her turn She consequently remained the lowest 
in the class until the time of her leaving the 
school, often subjected to the reproofs of her 
teachers, and fully alive to her humiliating situa- 
tion, but never once turning a deaf ear to her 
friend, or refusing to assist her in her difficulties. 

In the schools of the ancients, an act of patient 
disinterestedness like this, would have met with 
encouragement and reward; in the school where 
it took place, it was well for both parties that it 
was never known. 

In making these and similar remarks, I am 
aware that [ may bring upon myself the charge of 
wishing to exclude from our schools all intellec- 
tual attainments whatever; for how, it will be 
asked, can learning be acquired without emula- 
tion, and without rewards for the diligent, and 
punishments for the idle ? 

So far, however, from wishing to cast a shade 
of disrespect over such attainments, I am decidedly 


68 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


of opinion that no human being can know too 
much, so long as the sphere of knowledge does 
not extend to what is positively evil. I am also 
of opinion that there is scarcely any department 
of art. or science, still less of mental application, 
which is not calculated to strengthen and improve 
the mind; but at the same time I regard the 
improvement of the heart of so much greater con- 
sequence, that if time and opportunity should fail 
for both, I would strenuously recommend that 
women should be sent home from school with 
fewer accomplishments, and more of the will and 
the power to perform the various duties necessarily 
devolving upon them. 

Again, Iam reminded of the serious and impor- 
tant fact, that religion alone can improve the 
heart; and to this statement no one can yield 
assent with more reverential belief in its truth than 
myself. I acknowledge, also, for I know it to be 
a highly creditable fact, that a large proportion of 
the meritorious individuals who take upon them- 
selves the arduous task of training up the young, 
are conscientiously engaged in giving to religious 
instruction that place which it ought unquestion- 
ably to hold in every christian school. But I 
would ask, is tmstruction all that is wanted for 
instilling into the minds of the rising generation 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 69 


the benign principles of christian faith and prac- 
tice ? 

It is not thought enough to instruct the young 
sculptor in the rules of his art, to charge his 
memory with the names of those who have excel- 
led in it, and with the principles they have laid 
down for the guidance of others.—No: he must 
work with his own hand; and long before that 
hand, and the mind by which it is influenced, have 
attained maturity, he must have learned to mould 
the pliant clay, and have thus become familiar 
with the practice of his art. 

And shall this universally acknowledged system 
of instruction, for which we are indebted for all 
that is excellent in art and admirable in science, 
be neglected in the education of the young Chris- 
tian alone? Shall he be taught the bare theory 
of his religion, and left to work out its practice as 
he can? Shall he be instructed in what he is to 
believe, and not assisted in doing also the will of 
his heavenly Father ? 

We all know that it is not easy to practise even 
the simplest rule of right, when we have not been 
accustomed to do so; and the longer we are 
before we begin to regulate our conduct by the 
precepts of religion, the more difficult it will be 
to acquire such habits as are calculated to adorn 


70 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


and show forth the purity and excellence of its 
principles. 

There is one important difference between the 
acquisition of knowledge, and the acquisition of 
good habits, which of itself ought to be sufficient 
to ensure a greater degree of attention to the 
latter. When the little pupil first begins her 
education, her mind is a total blank, as far as 
relates to the different branches of study into 
which she is about to be introduced, and there is 
consequently nothing to: oppose. She is not pre- 
possessed in favour of any false system of arith- 
metic, grammar, or geography, and the ideas 
presented to her on these subjects are conse- 
quently willingly received, and adopted as her 
own. 

How different is the moral state of the unin- 
structed child! Selfishness coeval with her exist- 
ence has attained an alarming growth; and all 
the other passions and propensities inherent in 
her nature, taking their natural course, have 
strengthened with her advance towards maturity, 
and are ready to assume an aspect too formidable 
to afford any prospect of their being easily brought 
into subjection. 

Yet, notwithstanding this difference, the whole 
machinery of education is brought to bear upon 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 71 


the intellectual part of her nature, and her moral 
feelings are left to the training of the play-ground, 
where personal influence rather than right feeling, 
too frequently decides her disputes, and places her 
either high or low in the ranks of her companions. 

It is true, she is very seriously and properly 
corrected when convicted of having done wrong, 
and an admirable system of morals is promulgated 
in the school; but the subject I would complain 
of is, that no means have yet been adopted for 
making the practice of this system the object of 
highest importance in our schools. No adequate 
means have been adopted for testing the gene- 
rosity, the high-mindedness, the integrity of the 
children who pursue their education at school, 
until they leave it at the age of sixteen, when their 
moral faculties, either for good or for evil, must 
have attained considerable growth. 

Let us single out from any particular seminary 
a child who has been there from the years of ten 
to fifteen, and reckon, if it can be reckoned, the 
pains that have been spent in making that child a 
proficient in Latin. Have the same pains been 
spent in making her disinterestedly kind ? And yet 
what man is there in existence who would not rather 
his wife should be free from selfishness, than be 
able to read Virgil without the use of a dictionary. 


72 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


There is no reason, however, why both these 
desirable ends should not be aimed at, and as the 
child progresses in self-denial, forbearance, gene- 
rosity, and disinterested kindness, it might be her 
reward to advance in the acquisition of languages, 
or of whatever accomplishments it might be thought 
most desirable for her to attain. If I am told 
there would not be time for all the discipline 
requisite for the practice of morals; I ask in 
reply, how much do most young ladies learn at 
school, for whieh they never find any use in after 
life, and for which, it is not probable from their 
circumstances that they ever should. Let the 
hours spent upon music by those who have no 
ear—upon drawing, by those who might almost be 
said to have no eye—upon languages, by those 
who never afterwards speak any other than their 
mother-tongue—be added together year after year ; 
and an aggregate of wasted time will present 
itself, sufficient to alarm those who are sensible 
of its value, and of the awful responsibility of 
using it aright. 

It is impossible that the teachers or even the 
parents themselves should always know the future 
destiny of the child; but there is an appropriate 
sphere for women to move in, from which those of 
the middle class in England seldom deviate very 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 73 


widely. ‘This sphere has duties and occupations 
of its own, from which no woman can shrink with- 
out culpability and disgrace; and the question 
is, are women prepared for these duties and occu- 
pations by what they learn at school ? 

For my own part, I know not how education 
deserves the name, if it does not prepare the indi- 
vidual whom it influences, for filling her appointed 
station in the best possible manner. What, for 
instance, should we think of a school for sailors, 
in which nothing was taught but the fine arts ; 
or for musicians, in which the students were only 
instructed in the theory of sound ?- 

( With regard of the women of England, I have 
already ventured to assert that the quality for 
which, above all others, they are esteemed and 
valued, is their disinterested kindness. A selfish 
woman may not improperly be regarded as a 
monster, especially in that sphere of life, where 
there is a constant demand made upon her ser- 
vices. ) But how are women taught at school to 
forget themselves, and to cultivate that high tone 
of generous feeling to which the world is so much 
indebted for the hope and the joy, the peace 
and the consolation, which the influence and com- 
panionship of woman is able to diffuse through- 
out its very deserts, visiting, as with blessed sun- 


74 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


shine, the abodes of the wretched and the poor, 
and sharing cheerfully the lot of the afflicted. 

In what school, or under what system of modern 
education, can it be said that the chief aim of the 
teachers, the object to which their laborious exer- 
tions are mainly directed, is to correct the evil of 
selfishness in the hearts of their pupils? Improved 
methods of charging and surcharging the memory 
are eagerly sought out, and pursued, at any cost of 
time and patience, if not of health itself; but who 
ever thinks of establishing a selfish class amongst 
the girls of her establishment, or of awarding the 
honours and distinctions of the school to such as 
have exhibited the most meritorious instances of 
self-denial for the benefit of others. 

It may be objected to this plan, that virtue 
ought to be its own reward, and that honours and 
rewards adjudged to the most meritorious in a 
moral point of view, would be likely to induce a 
degree of self-complacency wholly inconsistent 
with christian meekness. I am aware that, in 
our imperfect state, no plan can be laid down for 
the promotion of good, with which evil will not be 
liable to mix. All I contend for is, that the same 
system of discipline, with the same end in view, 
should be begun and carried on at school, as that 
to which the scholar will necessarily be subjected 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. Via 


in after life; and that throughout the training of 
her early years, the same standard of merit should 
be adopted, as she will find herself compelled to 
look up to, when released from that training, and 
sent forth into the world to think and act for 
herself. 

At school it has been the business of every day 
to raise herself above her companions by attain- 
ments greater than theirs; in after life it will be 
the business of every day to give place to others, 
to think of their happiness, and to make sacrifices 
of her own to promote it. If such acts of self- 
denial, when practised at school, should endanger 
the equanimity of her mind by the approbation 
they obtain, what will they do in the world she is 
about to enter, where the unanimous opinion of 
mankind, both in this, and in past ages, is in their 
favour, and where she must perpetually hear 
woman spoken of in terms of the highest commen- 
dation, not for her learning, but for her disin- 
terested kindness, her earnest zeal in promoting 
the happiness of her fellow-creatures, and the 
patience and forbearance with which she studies 
to mitigate affliction and relieve distress ? 

Would it not be safer, then, to begin at a very 
early age to make the practice of these virtues the 

chief object of their lives, guarding at the same 


76 MUDERN EDUCATION OF 


time against any self-complacency that might at- 
tach to the performance of them, by keeping always 
before their view, higher and nobler instances of 
virtue in others; and especially by a strict and 
constant reference to the utter worthlessnéss of all 
human merit, in comparison with the mercy and 
forgiveness that must ever impose a debt of grati- 
tude upon our own souls ? 

Taking into consideration the various excellen- 
cles and peculiarities of woman, I am inclined to 
think that the sphere which of all others admits 
of the highest developement of her character, is 
the chamber of sickness ; and how frequently and 
mournfully familiar are the scenes in which she is 
thus called to act and feel, let the private history 
of every family declare. 

There is but a very small proportion of the 
daughters of farmers, manufacturers, and trades- 
people, in England, who are ever called upon for 
their Latin, their Italian, or even for their French; 
but all women in this sphere of life are liable to 
be called upon to visit and care for the sick; and 
if in the hour of weakness and of suffering, they 
prove to be unacquainted with any probable means 
of alleviation, and wholly ignorant of the most 
_ judicious and suitable mode of offering relief and 
consolation, they are indeed deficient in one of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. ta 


the highest attainments in the way of usefulness, 
to which a woman can aspire. / 

To obviate the serious difficulties which many 
women experience from this cause, I would pro- 
pose, as a substitute for some useless accom- 
plishments, that English girls should be made 
acquainted with the most striking phenomena of 
some of the familiar, and frequently recurring 
maladies to which the human frame is liable, with 
the most approved methods of treatment. And 
by cultivating this knowledge so far as relates to 
general principles, I have little doubt but it might 
be made an interesting and highly useful branch 
of education. 

I am far from wishing them to interfere with 
the province of the physician. The more they 
know, the less likely they will be to do this. The 
office of a judicious nurse is all ! would recom- 
mend them to aspire to; and to the same depart- 
ment of instruction should be added the whole 
science of that delicate and difficult cookery which 
forms so important a part of the attendant’s duty. 

Nor let these observations call forth a smile 
upon the rosy lips that are yet unparched by 
fever, untainted by consumption. Fair reader, 
there have been those who would have given at 
the moment almost half their worldly wealth, to 


78 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


have been able to previde a palatable morsel for 
a beloved sufferer; who have met the inquiring 
eye, that asked for it knew not what, and that 
expressed by its anxious look an almost childish 
longing for what they were unable to supply, not 
because the means were denied, but simply be- 
cause they were too ignorant of the nature and 
necessities of illness to form any practical idea of 
what would be most suitable and most approved. 
Perhaps, in their well-meant officiousness, they 
have mentioned the only thing they were ac- 
quainted with, and that was just the most repul- 
sive. What then have they done ?—Allowed the 
faint and feeble sufferer to go pining on, wishing 
it had been her lot to fall under the care of any 
other nurse. 

How invaluable at such a time is the almost 
endless catalogue of good and suitable prepara- 
tions with which the really clever woman is sup- 
plied, any one of which she is able to prepare 
with her own hands; choosing, with the skill of 
the doctor, what is best adapted for the occasion, 
and converting diet into medicine of the most 
agreeable description, which she brings silently 
into the sick-room without previous mention, and 
thus exhilarates the spirits of the patient by an 
agreeable surprise. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 79 


It is customary with young ladies of the present 
day to think that nurses and hired attendants 
ought to do these things; and well and faithfully 
they sometimes do them, to the shame of those 
connected by nearer ties. But are they ignorant 
that a hired hand can never impart such sweet- 
ness to a cordial as a hand beloved; and that the 
most delicious and most effectual means of proving 
the strength of their affection is to choose to do, 
what might by possibility have been accomplished 
by another? 

When we meet in society with that speechless 
inanimate, ignorant, and useless being called “a 
young lady just come from school,” it is thought 
a sufficient apology for all her deficiencies, that 
she has, poor thing! but just come home from 
school. Thus implying that nothing in the way | 
of domestic usefulness, social intercourse, or adap- 
tation to circumstances, can be expected from her 
until she has had time to learn it. 

If, during the four or five years spent at school, 
she had been establishing herself upon the foun- 
dation of her future character, and learning to 
practise what would afterwards be the business 
of her life, she would, when her education was 
considered as complete, be in the highest possible 
state of perfection which her nature, at that 


80 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


season of life, would admit of. This is what she 
ought to be. I need not advert to what she is. 
The case is too pitiful to justify any farther 
description. ‘The popular and familiar remark, 
“Poor thing! she has just come home from 
school ; what can you expect?” is the best com- 
mentary I can offer. 

There is another point of difference between 
the training of the intellect, and that of the moral 
feelings, of more serious importance than any we 
have yet considered. 

We all know that the occupation of teaching, 
as it relates to the common branches of instruc- 
tion, is one of such herculean labour, that few 
persons are found equal to it for any protracted 
length of time; and even with such, it is neces- 
sary that they should bend their minds to it with 
a determined effort, and make each day a renewal 
of that effort, not to be baffled by difficulties, nor 
defeated by want of success. We all know, too, 
what it is to the learner to be dragged on day by 
day through the dull routine of exercises, in which 
she feels no particular interest, except what arises 
from getting in advance of her fellows, obtaining 
a prize, or suffering a punishment. We all can 
remember the atmosphere of the school-room, so 


unc¢ngenia! to the fresh and buoyant spirits of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 81 


youth—the clatter of slates, the dull point of the 
pencil, and the white cloud where the wrong 
figure, the figure that would prove the incorrect- 
ness of the whole, had so often been rubbed out. 
To say nothing of the morning lessons, before the 
dust from the desks and the floor had been put in 
motion, we all can remember the afternoon sen- 
sations with which we took our places, perhaps 
between companions the most unloved by us of 
any in the school; and how, while the summer’s 
sun was shining in through the high windows, we 
pored with aching head over some dry dull words, 
that would not transmit themselves to the tablet 
of our memories, though repeated with indefa- 
tigable industry, repeated until they seemed to 
have no identity, no distinctness, but were mingled 
with the universal hum and buzz of the close, 
heated room; where the heart, if it did not forget 
itself to stone, at least forgot itself to sleep, and 
lost all power of feeling anything but weariness, 
and occasional pining for relief. Class after class 
were then called up from this hot-bed of intellect. 
The tones of the teacher’s voice, though not 
always the most musical, might easily have been 
pricked down in notes, they were so uniform in 
their cadences of interrogation, rejection, Aud 
reproof. These, blending with the slow, dull 
E 


82 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


answers of the scholars, and occasionally the quick 
guess of one ambitious to attain the highest place, 
all mingled with the general monotony, and in- 
creased the stupor that weighed down every eye, 
and deadened every pulse. 

There are, unquestionably, quick children, who 
may easily be made fond of learning, if judiciously 
treated; and it no doubt happens to all, that 
there are portions of their daily duty not abso- 
lutely disagreeable; but that weariness is the 
prevalent sensation both with the teachers and 
the taught, is a fact that few will attempt tv deny ; 
nor is it a libel upon individuals thus engaged, 
or upon human nature in general, that it should 
be so. We are so constituted that we cannot 
spend all our time in the exercise of our intellect, 
without absolute pain, especially while young; 
and when, in after life, we rise with exhausted 
patience from three hours of writing or reading, 
we cannot look back with wonder that at school 
we suffered severely from the labour of six. 

It is not my province to describe how much the 
bodily constitution is impaired by this incessant 
application to study. Philanthropical means are * 
»devised for relieving the young student as much 
as’gogsible, by varying the subjects of attention, 
and allowing short intervals of bodily exercise: 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 83 


but still the high-pressure system goes on; and, 
with all their attainments in the way of learning, 
few of the young ladies who return home after a 
highly-finished education, are possessed of health 
and energy sufficient to make use of their attain- 
ments, even if they occupied a field more suited 
to their display. 

I know not how it may affect others, but the 
sumber of languid, listless, and inert young ladies, 
who now recline upon our sofas, murmuring and 
repining at every claim upon their personal exer- 
tions, is to me a truly melancholy spectacle, and 
one which demands the attention of a benevolent 
and enlightened public, even more, perhaps, than 
some of those great national schemes in which 
the people and the government are alike inte- 
rested. It is but rarely now that we meet with a 
really healthy woman; and, highly as intellectual 
attainments may be prized, I think all will allow 
that no qualifications can be of much value with- 
out the power of bringing them into use. 

The difference I would point out, between the 
exercise of the intellect and that of the moral 
feelings is this. It has so pleased the all-wise 
Disposer of our lives, that the duties he has laid 
down for the right government of the human 
family, have in their very nature something that 


84 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


expands and invigorates the soul; so that instead 
of being weary of well-doing, the character be- 
comes strengthened, the energies enlivened, and 
the whole sphere of capability enlarged. 

Who has not felt, after a long conflict between 
duty and inclination, when at last the determi- 
nation has been formed, and duty has been sub- 
mitted to, not grudgingly, but from very love to 
the Father of mercies, who alone can judge what 
will eventually promote the good of his weak, 
erring, and short-sighted creatures — from reve- 
rence for his holy laws, and from gratitude to the 
Saviour of mankind ;—who has not felt a sudden 
impulse of thanksgiving and delight as they were 
enabled to make this decision, a springing up, as 
it were, of the soul from the low cares and en- 
tanglements of this world, to a higher and purer 
state of existence, where the motives and feelings 
under which the choice has been made, will be - 
appreciated and approved, but where every in- 
ducement that could have been brought forward 
to vindicate a different choice, would have been 
rejected at the bar of eternal justice ? 

It is not the applause of man that can reach 
the heart under such circumstances. No human 
eye is wished for, to look in upon our self-denial, 
or to witness the sacrifice we make. ‘The good 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 85 


we have attempted to do may even fail in its 
effect. We know that the result is not with us, 
but with Him who seeth in secret, and who has 
left us in possession of this encouraging assur- 
ance, Inusmuch as ye do it unto one of these, ye 
do wt unto me. 

Was the human mind ever enfeebled, or the 
human frame exhausted, by feelings of kindness? 
No! The hour of true refreshment and invigo- 
ration is that in which we do our duty, whatever 
it may be, cheerfully and humbly, as in the sight 
of God; not pluming ourselves upon our own 
merit, or anticipating great results, but with a 
childlike dependence upon his promises, and de- 
yout aspirations to be ever employed in working 
out his holy will. | 

In the pursuit of intellectual attainments, we 
cannot encourage ourselves throughout the day, 
nor revive our wearied energies at night, by say- 
ing, “It is for the love of my heavenly Father 
that I do this.” But, as a very little child may 
be taught, for the love of a lost parent, to avoid 
what that parent would have disapproved; so the 
young may be cheered and led onward in the 
path of duty by the same principle, connecting 
every action of their lives in which good and evil 


86 MODERN EDUCATION OF > 


may be blended, with the condemnation or ap- 
proval of their Father who is in heaven. 

There is no principle in our nature which at 
the same time softens and. ennobles, subdues and 
exalts, so much as the principle of gratitude; and 
it ought ever to be remembered, in numbering 
our blessings, that gratitude has been made the 
foundation of Christian morality. The ancient 
philosophers had their system of morals, and a 
beautiful one it was. But it had this defect—it 
had no sure foundation; sometimes shifting from 
expediency to the rights of man, and thus having 
no fixed and determinate character. The happier 
system under which we are privileged to live, has 
all the advantages acknowledged by the philoso- 
phers of old, with this great and merciful addition, 
that it is peculiarly calculated to wind itself in 
with our affections, by being founded upon gra~ 
titude, and thus to excite, in connexion with the 
practice of all it enjoins, those emotions of mind 
which are most conducive to our happiness. 

Let us imagine a little community of young 
women, amongst whom, to do an act of disinter- 
ested kindness should be an object of the highest 
ambition, and where to do any act of pure sel- 
fishness, tending, however remotely, to the injury 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 87 


of another, should be regarded as the deepest 
disgrace; where they should be accustomed to 
consider their time not as their own, but lent 
them solely for the purpose of benefiting their 
fellow-creatures; and where those who were 
known to exercise the greatest charity and for- 
bearance, should be looked upon as the most 
exalted individual in the whole community. Would 
these girls be weary? Would they be discon- 
tented, listless, and inanimate? ‘The experiment 
remains to be tried. 

' It is a frequent and popular remark, that girls 
are less trouble to manage in families than boys; 
and so unquestionably they are. But when their 
parents go on to say that girls awaken less 
anxiety, are safer and more easily brought up, I 
am disposed to think such parents look with too 
superficial a view to the conduct of their children 
before the world, rather than the state of their 
hearts before God. 

It is true that girls have little temptation, gene- 
rally speaking, to vice. They are so hemmed in 
and guarded by the rules of society, that they 
must be destitute almost of the common feelings 
of human nature, to be willing, for any consi- 
deration, to sacrifice their good name. But do 
such parents ever ask, how much of evil may be 


88 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


cherished and indulged in, and the good name 
retained? Jam aware that amongst the generality 
of women there is more religious feeling than 
amongst men, more observance of the ordinances 
of religion, more reading of the scriptures, and 
more attention to the means of religious informa- 
tion. But let not the woman who sits in peace, 
and unassailed by temptation, in the quiet retire- 
ment of her own parlour, look down with self- 
complacency and contempt upon the open trans- 
gressions of her erring brother. Rather let her 
weigh in the scale his strong passions, and strong 
inducements to evil, and, it may be, strong com- 
punctions too, against her own little envyings, 
bickerings, secret spite, and soul-cherished ido- 
latry of self; and then ask of her conscience 
which is farthest in advance towards the kingdom 
of heaven. 

It is true, she has uttered no profane expression, 
but she has set afloat upon a winged whisper the 
transgression of her neighbour. She has polluted 
her lips with no intoxicating draught, but she has 
drunk of the Circean cup of flattery, and acted 
from vanity and self-love, when she was professing 
to act from higher motives. She has run into no 
excesses but the excess of display; and she has 
injured no one by her bad example, except in the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 89 


practice of petty faults. In short, she has not 
sinned beyond her own temptations. 

One of the most striking features in the charac- 
ter of the young ladies of the present day, 1s the 
absence of contentment. They are lively when 
excited, but no sooner does the excitement cease, 
than they fall back into their habitual listlessness, 
under which they so often complain of their fate, 
and speak of themselves as unfortunate and 
afflicted, that one would suppose them to be vic- 
tims of adversity, did not a more intimate acquaint- 
ance with their actual circumstances, convince us 
that they were surrounded by every thing condu- 
cive to rational comfort. For the sake of the 
poetry of the matter, one would scarcely deny to 
every young lady her little canker-worm to nurse 
in her bosom, since all must have their pets. 
But when they add selfishness to melancholy, and 
trouble their friends with their idle and fruitless 
complaints, the case becomes too serious for a 
jest. Indeed, I am not sure that the professing 
Christian, who rises every morning with a cherish- 
ed distaste for the duties of the day, who turns 
away when they present themselves, under a 
belief that they are more difficult or more disgust- 
ing than the duties of other people, who regards 
her own allotment in the world as peculiarly hard, 

E2 


90 MODERN EDUCATION OF 


and never pours forth her soul in devout thanks- 
giving for the blessings she enjoys, is not in reality 
as culpable in the sight of God, and living as 
much at variance with the spirit of true religion, 
as the individual who spends the same portion of 
time in the practice of more open and palpable 
sin. 

It is an undeniable improvement in modern 
education, that religious instruction is becoming 
more general, that pupils are questioned in the 
knowledge of the Scriptures, instructed in the 
truths of religion, and sent forth into the world 
prepared to give an answer respecting the general 
outlines of Christianity. So long, however, as 
the discontent above alluded to remains so pre- 
valent, we must question the sufficiency of this 
method of instruction; dnd it is under a strong 
conviction, that to teach young people to talk 
about religion is but a small part of what is neces- 
sary to the establishment of their christian cha- 
racters, that 1 have ventured to put forth what 
may be regarded as crude remarks upon this 
important subject. 

I still cling fondly to the hope, that, ere long, 
some system of female instruction will be disco- 
vered, by which the young women of England 
may be sent home from school prepared for the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 91 


stations appointed them by Providence to fill in 
after life, and prepared to fill them well. ‘Then 
indeed may this favoured country boast of her 
privileges, when her young women return to their 
homes and their parents, habituated to be on the 
watch for every opportunity of doing good to 
others; making it the first and the last inquiry of 
every day, “ What can I do to make my parents, 
my brothers, or my sisters, more happy? Iam 
but a feeble instrument in the hands of Pro- 
vidence, to work out any of his benevolent designs; 
but as he will give me strength, I hope to pursue 
the plan to which I have been accustomed, of 
seeking my own happiness only in the happiness 
of others.” 


92 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


CHAPTER IV. 


DRESS AND MANNERS. 


Tuat the extent of woman’s influence is not 
always commensurate with the cultivation of her 
intellectual powers, is a truth which the expe- 
rience and observation of every day tend to con- 
firm; for how often do we find that a lavish 
expenditure upon the means of acquiring know- 
ledge, is productive of no adequate result in the 
way of lessening the sum of human misery. 

When we examine the real state of society, and 
single out the individuals whose habits, conver- 
sation, and character produce the happiest effect 
upon their fellow-creatures, we invariably find 
them persons who are morally, rather than intel- 
lectually great; and consequently the possession 
of genius is, to a woman, a birthright of very ques- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 95 


tionable value. It is a remark, not always cha- 
ritably made, but unfortunately too true, that the 
most talented women are not the most agreeable 
in their domestic capacity; and frequent and 
unsparing are the batteries of sarcasm and wit, 
which consequently open upon our unfortunate 
blues? It should be remembered, however, that 
the evil is not in the presence of one quality, but 
in the absence of another; and we ought never to 
forget the redeeming excellence of those signal 
instances, in which the moral worth of the female 
character is increased and supported by intel- 
lectual power. If, in order to maintain a bene- 
ficial influence in society, superior talent, or even 
a high degree of learning, were required, solitary 
and insignificant would be the lot of some of the 
most social, benevolent, and noble-hearted women, 
who now occupy the very centre of attraction 
within their respective circles, and claim from 
all around them a just and appropriate tribute of 
affection and esteem. 

It need scarcely be repeated, that although 
great intellectual attainments are by no means 
the highest recommendation that a woman can 
possess, the opposite extreme of ignorance, or 
natural imbecility of mind, are effectual barriers 
to the exercise of any considerable degree of 


94 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


influence in society. An ignorant woman who 
has not the good sense to keep silent, or a weak 
woman pleased with her own prattle, are scarcely 
less annoying than humiliating to those who, from 
acquaintance or family connexion, have the mis- 
fortune to be identified with them; yet it is sur- 
prising how far a small measure of talent, or of 
mental cultivation, may be made to extend in the 
way of giving pleasure, when accompanied by 
good taste, good sense, and good feeling, espe- 
cially with that feeling which leads the mind from 
self and selfish motives, into an habitual regard 
to the good and the happiness of others. 

The more we reflect upon this subject, the 
more we must be convinced, that there is a 
system of discipline required for women, totally 
distinct from what is called the learning of the 
schools, and that, unless they can be prepared 
for their allotment in life by some process cal- 
culated to fit them for performing its domestic 
duties, the time bestowed upon their education 
will be found, in after life, to have been wholly 
inadequate to procure for them either habits of 
usefulness, or a healthy tone of mind. 

It would appear from a superficial observation 
of the views of domestic and social duty about to 
be presented, that in the estimation of the writer, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 95 


the great business of a woman’s life was to make 
herself agreeable; for so minute are some of the 
points which properly engage her attention, that 
they scarcely seem to bear upon the great object 
of doing good. Yet when we reflect that by 
giving pleasure in an innocent and unostentatious 
manner, innumerable channels are opened for 
administering instruction, assistance, or conso- 
lation, we cease to regard as insignificant the 
smallest of those means by which a woman can 
render herself an object either of affection or 
disgust. 

First, then, and most familiar to common obser- 
vation, is her personal appearance; and in this 
case, vanity, more potent in woman’s heart than 
selfishness, renders it an object of general soli- 
citude to be so adorned as best to meet and 
gratify the public taste. Without inquiring too 
minutely into the motive, the custom, as such, 
must be commended; for, like many of the minor 
virtues of women, though scarcely taken note of 
in its immediate presence, it is sorely missed 
when absent. <A careless or slatternly woman, 
for instance, is one of the most repulsive objects 
in creation; and such is the force of public opinion 
in favour of the delicacies of taste and feeling in 
the female sex, that no power of intellect, or dis- 


96 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


play of learning, can compensate to men, for the 
want of nicety or neatness in the women with 
whom they associate in domestic life. In vain to 
them might the wreath of laurel wave in glorious 
triumph over locks uncombed; and wo betide the 
heroine, whose stocking, even of the deepest blue, 
betrayed a lurking hole! 

It is, however, a subject too serious for jest, and 
ought to be regarded by all women with earnest 
solicitude that they may constantly maintain in 
their own persons that strict attention to good 
taste and delicacy of feeling, which affords the 
surest evidence of delicacy of mind; a quality 
without which no woman ever was, or ever will be, 
charming. Let her appear in company with what 
accomplishments she may, let her charm by her 
musical talents, attract by her beauty, or enliven 
by her wit, if there steal from underneath her 
graceful drapery, the soiled hem, the tattered frill, 
or even the coarse garment out of keeping with 
her external finery, imagination naturally carries 
the observer to her dressing-room, her private 
habits, and even to her inner mind, where, it is 
almost impossible to believe that the same want of 
order and purity does not prevail. 

It is a prevalent but most injurious mistake, to 
suppose that all women must be splendidly and 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND 97 


expensively dressed, to recommend themselves to 
general approbation. In order to do this, how 
many, in the sphere of life to which these remarks 
apply, are literally destitute of comfort both in 
their hearts, and in their homes; for the struggle 
between parents and children, to raise the means 
on one hand, and to obtain them either by argu- 
ment or subterfuge on the other, is but one 
amongst the many sources of family discord and 
individual suffering, which mark out the excess 
of artificial wants as the great evil of the present 
times. ) 

A very slight acquaintance with the sentiments 
and tone of conversation familiar amongst men, 
might convince all whose minds are open to con- 
viction, that theix admiration is not to be obtained 
by the display of any kind of extravagance in 
dress. There may be occasional instances of the 
contrary, but the praise most liberally and uni- 
formly bestowed by men upon the dress of women, 
is, that it is neat, becoming, or in good taste. 

The human mind is often influenced by asso- 
ciation, while immediate impression is all that 
it takes cognizance of at the moment. Thus a 
splendidly dressed woman entering the parlour of 
a farm-house, or a tradesman’s drawing-room, 
bursts upon the sight as an astounding and almost 


98 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


monstrous spectacle; and we are scarcely aware 
that the repulsion we instantaneously experience, 
arises from a secret conviction of how much the 
gorgeous-fabric must have cost the wearer, in time, 
and thought, and money; especially when we 
know that the same individual is under the neces- 
sity of spending her morning hours in culinary 
operations, and is, or ovght to be, the sharer of 
her husband’s daily toil. 

There is scarcely any object in art or nature, 
calculated to excite our admiration, which may 
not, from being ill-placed, excite our ridicule or 
disgust. Each individual article of clothing worn 
by this woman, may be superb in itself, but there 
is a want of fitness and harmony in the whole, 
from which we turn away. 

Perhaps there are no single objects in them- 
selves so beautiful as flowers, and it might seem 
difficult to find a situation in which they could 
be otherwise ; yet I have seen—and seen with a 
feeling almost like pity—at the conclusion of a 
feast, fair rose-leaves and sweet jessamine floating 
amidst such inappropriate elements, that ali their 
beauty was despoiled, and they were fit only to be 
cast away with the refuse of gross matter in which 
they were involved. 

Admiration of a beautiful object, how intense 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 99 


soever it may be, cannot impart that high tone of 
intellectual enjoyment which arises from our admi- 
ration of fitness and beauty combined; and thus 
the richest silk, and the finest lace, when inappro- 
priately worn, are beautifully manufactured arti- 
cles, but nothing more. While, therefore, on the 
one hand, there is a moral degradation in the con- 
sciousness of wearing soiled or disreputable gar- 
ments, or in being in any way below the ave- 
rage of personal decency; there is, on the other, 
a gross violation of good taste, in assuming for the 
middle classes of society, whose occupations are 
closely connected with the means of bodily sub- 
sistence, the same description of personal orna- 
ment, as belongs with more propriety to those 
who enjoy the luxury of giving orders, without 
any necessity for farther occupation of time or 
thought. 

The most frequently recurring perplexities of 
woman’s life arise from cases which religion does 
not immediately reach, and in which she is still 
expected to decide properly, and act agreeably 
without any other law than that of good taste for 
her guide. Good taste is therefore most essentia. 
to the regulation of her dress and general appear- 
ance ; and wherever any striking violation of this 
principle appears, the beholder is immediately 


100 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


impressed with the idea that a very important 
rule of her life and conduct is wanting. It is not 
all who possess this guide within themselves; but 
an attentive observation of human life and cha- 
racter, especially a due regard to the beauty of 
fitness, would enable all to avoid giving offence in 
this particular way. | 

The regard to fitness here recommended, is a 
duty of much more serious importance than would 
at first sight appear, since it involves a considera- 
tion which cannot too often be presented to the 
mind, of what, and who we are ?—what is the sta- 
tion we are appointed to fill, and what the objects 
for which we are living ! 

Behold yon gorgeous fabric in the distance, 
with its rainbow hues, and gems, and shining dra- 


pery, 
« And flowers the fairest that might feast the bee.” 


A coronet of beauty crowns the whole, and feathery 
ornaments, on frail silvery threads, glitter, and 
wave, and tremble at every moving breath. Surely 
the countenance of Flora blooms below, and 
Zephyrus suspends his gentle wings at her ap- 
proach. The spectacle advances. It is not health, 
nor youth, nor beauty, that we see; but poor, 
decrepit, helpless, miserable old age. We gaze, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 10] 


and a shudder comes over us, for Death is grin- 
ning in the back-ground, and we hear his voice 
triumphantly exclaiming, “This is mine!” 

Look at that moving garden, and those waving 
plumes, as they pass along the aisle of the church - 
or the chapel. They form the adornment of 
a professedly christian woman, the mother of a 
family ; and this is the day appointed for par- 
taking of that ordinance to which Christians are 
invited to come m meekness and lowliness of 
spirit, to commemorate the love of their Re- 
deemer, who, though he was rich, for their sakes 
became poor—who humbled himself, and became 
obedient unto death, to purchase their exemption 
from the penalty of sin, and the bondage of the 
world. 

We would earnestly hope that, in the greater 
number of such cases as these, the error is in the 
judgment—the mockery thoughtlessly assumed: 
but would not the habit of self-examination, fol- 
lowed up by serious inquiry respecting our real 
and individual position in society, as moral agents 
and immortal beings, be a likely means of avert- 
ing the ridicule that age is ill prepared to bear ; 
and, what is of infinitely more consequence, of 
preventing the scandal that religion has too much 
cause to charge upon her friends ? 


102 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


It frequently happens that women in the middle 
class of society are not entirely free from provin- 
cialisms in their manner of speaking, as well as 
other peculiarities, by which it may easily be dis- 
covered that their interests are local, and their 
means of information of limited extent; in short, 
that they are persons who have but little acquaint- 
ance with the polite or fashionable world; and yet 
they may be persons highly estimable and im- 
portant in their own sphere. Very little either 
of esteem or importance, however, attaches to 
their characters, where their ingenuity is taxed 
to maintain what they believe to be a fashionable 
or elegant exterior, and which, in connexion with 
their unpolished dialect and homely occupations, 
renders them but too much like the chimney- 
sweepers queen decked out for a May-day exhi- 
bition. The invidious question unavoidably occurs 
to the beholder—for what or for whom has such 
a person mistaken herself? while, had she been 
dressed in a plain substantial costume, corre-— 
sponding with her mind and habits, she might 
have been known at once, and respected for what 
she really was,—a rational, independent, and 
valuable member of society. 

It is not, by any means, the smallest of the ser- 
vices required by christian charity, to point out 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 108 


to our fellow-countrywomen how they may avoid 
being ridiculous. Perhaps a higher degree of 
intellectual dignity would raise us all above the 
weakness of being moved to laughter by so slight 
a cause. But such is the constitution of the 
general order of minds, that they are less enter- 
tained by the most pointed witticisms, than by 
those striking contrasts and discrepancies, which 
seem to imply that rusticity has mistaken itself 
for elegance, deformity for beauty, age for youth. 
I pretend not to defend this propensity to turn 
so serious a mistake into jest. I merely say that 
such a propensity does exist, and, what is amongst 
the anomalies of our nature, that it sometimes 
exhibits itself most unreservedly in the very indi- 
viduals who in their turn are furnishing food for 
merriment to others. 

The laughing philosopher might have reasoned 
thus, “ Let them all laugh on, they will cure each 
other.” But the question is—does ridicule cor- 
rect the evil? Most assuredly it does not. It 
does something more, however. It rankles like 
a poison in the bosom where it falls, and destroys 
the peace of many an amiable but ill-judging can- 
didate for public admiration. Women, especially, 
are its victims and its prey; and well do they 
learn, under the secret tutelage of envy, jealousy, 


& 


104 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


and pride, how to make this engine of discord 
play upon each other. 


‘ When we listen to the familiar conversation of 


women, especially of those whose minds are tainted 
by vulgarity, and unenlightened by the higher 
principles of religion, we find that a very large 
portion of their time and attention is bestowed 
upon the subject of dress—not of their own dress 
merely, but of that of their neighbours; and in 
drawing conclusions, the most critical and minute, 
from the precise grade of gentility which such 
individuals are supposed to assume. \ Looking 
farther, we find, what is more astonishing, that 
there exists in connexion with the same subject 
a degree of rivalry and ambition which call forth 
many of the evil passions that are ever ready to 
spring into action, and mar the pleasant pictures 
of social life. In awakening these, the ridicule 
already alluded to is a powerful agent; for, like 
the most injurious of libels, it adheres so nearly 
to the truth, as to set contradiction at defiance. 
Thus, there are few persons who would not rather 
be maligned than ridiculed ; and thus the wounds 
inflicted by ridicule are the most difficult to heal, 
and the last to be forgiven. 

Surely, then, it is worth paying some regard to 
the principles of fitness and consistency, in order 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 105 


to avoid the consequences necessarily resulting 
from every striking deviation from these rules; 
and the women of England possess many advan- 
tages in the cultivation of their natural powers of 
discrimination and reason, for enabling them to 
ascertain the precise position of this line of con- 
duct, which it is so important to them to observe. 
They are free from many of the national preju- 
dices entertained by the women of other coun- 
tries, and they enjoy the inestimable privilege of 
being taught to look up toa higher standard of 
morals, for the right guidance of their conduct, 
It is to them, therefore, that we look for what 
rational and useful women ought to be, not only 
in the essentials of christian character, but in the 
minor points of social, domestic, and individual 
duty. 

Much that has been said on the subject ot 
dress, is equally applicable to that of manners. 
Fitness, and adaptation, are here, as well as in 
the former instance, the general rule; for of what 
value is elegance in a cottage, or the display of 
animal strength at a European court ? 

In the middle walks of life, an easy manner, 
free from affectation on the one hand, and gross- 
ness on the other, is all that is required; and 
such are, or ought to be, the occupations of all 

F 


106 DRESS AND MANNERS OF> 


women of this class, as most happily to induce 
such habits of activity and free-agency, as would 
effectually preserve them from the two extremes 
of coldness and frivolous absurdity. 

The grand error of the day seems to be, that of 
calling themselves dadies, when it ought to be 
their ambition to be women,—women who fill a 
place, and occupy a post—members of the com- 
monwealth—supporters of the fabric of society,— 
the minor wheels and secret springs of the great 
machine of human life and action, which cannot 
move harmoniously, nor with full effect to the 
accomplishment of any great or noble purpose, 
while clogged with the lovely burdens, and im- 
peded by the still-life attitudes of those useless 
members of the community, who cast themselves 
about on every hand, in the vain hope of being 
valued and admired for doing nothing. 

Amongst the changes introduced by modern 
taste, it is not the least striking, that all the 
daughters of trades-people, when sent to school, 
are no longer girls, but young ladies. ‘The linen- 
draper whose worthy consort occupies her daily 
post behind the counter, receives her child from 
Mrs. Montague’s establishment—a young lady. 
At the same elegant and expensive seminary, 
music and Italian are taught to Hannah Smith, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 107 


whose father deals in Yarmouth herrings; and 
there is the butcher’s daughter, too, perhaps the 
most ladylike of them all. The manners of these 
young ladies naturally take their tone and cha- 
racter from the ridiculous assumptions of modern 
refinement. ‘The butcher’s daughter is seized 
with nausea at the spectacle of raw meat—Hannah 
Smith is incapable of existing within the atmo- 
sphere of her father’s home—and the child of the 
linen-draper elopes with a merchant’s clerk, to 
avoid the dire necessity of assisting in her father’s 
shop. 

What a catalogue of miseries might be made 
out, as the consequence of this mistaken ambition 
of the women of England to be ladies! Gentle- 
women they may be, and refined women too; for 
when did either gentleness or true refinement 
disqualify a woman for her proper duties? But 
that assumption of delicacy which unfits them for 
the real business of life, is more to be dreaded in 
its fatal influence upon their happiness, than the 
most agonizing disease with which they could be 
afflicted. 

It is needless to say that women of this morbid, 
imbecile character have no influence. ‘They are 
so occupied with the minutiz of their own per- 
sonal miseries, that they have no time to think of 


108 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


the sin and the sorrow existing in the world 
around them. Whatever is proposed to them in 
the way of doing good, is sure to meet with a 
listless, weary, murmuring denial: for if the hun- 
dred-and-one objections, arising out of other 
fancied causes, should be obviated, there are their 
endless and inexhaustible nerves. Alas! alas! that 
English women should ever have found them- 
selves out to be possessed of nerves! Not the most 
exquisite creation of the poet’s fancy was ever 
supposed to be more susceptible of pain, than is 
now the highly-educated young lady, who reclines 
upon a couch in an apartment slightly separated 
from that in which her father sells his goods, and 
but one remove from the sphere of her mother’s 
culinary toil. 

How different from this feeble, discontented, 
helpless thing, is the woman who shows by her 
noble bearing that she knows her true position in 
society; and who knows, also, that the virtue and 
the value attaching to her character must be in 
exact proportion to the benefit she confers upon 
her fellow-creatures ;—above all, who feels that 
the only Being who is capable of knowing what 
is ultimately best, has seen meet to place her 
exactly where the powers of her mind and the 
purposes of her life may be made most conducive 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 109 


to his merciful and wise designs. Not the mean- 
est habiliments, nor the most homely personal 
aspect, can conceal the worth and dignity of such 
a woman; and whatever that position with which 
she has made herself so well acquainted may be, 
she will find that her influence extends to its 
remotest circle. 

It is impossible to say what the manners of 
such a woman are. In the cottage, in the court, 
in the daily and hourly performance of social ser- 
vices, they are, and must be, characterised by the 
same attributes—general adaptation supported by 
dignity, a high sense of duty predominating over 
every tendency to selfish indulgence, and prompt- 
ing to the performance of every kind of practical 
good, a degree of self-respect, without which no 
talent can be matured, and no purpose rendered 
firm; yet, along with this, a far higher degree of 
respect for others, exhibited: in modes of deference, 
and acts of consideration as various as the different 
characters whose good or whose happiness are 
the subjects of her care; and, lastly, that sweet 
sister of benevolence, charity, without which no 
woman ever yet could make herself a desirable 
companion or friend. 

It may be said that these are virtues, not modes 
of conduct; but how much of virtue, particularly 


110 DRESS AND MANNERS OF — 


that of charity, may be implied and understood by 
what is commonly called manner. ‘That which in. 
the present day is considered the highest attain- 
ment in this branch of conduet, is, a lady-like 
manner, and it is one that well deserves the atten- 
tion of all who wish to recommend themselves— 
who wish, as all must do, to ward off insulting 
familiarity, and court respectful consideration. 
There are, however, many impressions conveyed 
to the minds of others by mere manner, far 
exceeding this in interest and importance. What, 
for instance, is so consoling to the afflicted as a 
sympathizing manner? The direct expression of 
sympathy might possibly give pain; but there is 
a manner, and happy are they who possess it, 
which conveys a silent invitation to the sorrowing 
soul to unburden its griefs, with an assurance that 
it may do so without fear of treachery or unkind- 
ness. ‘There seems to be an instinct in our na- 
ture by which this mode of expressing sympathy 
is rendered intelligible; and who that has any 
thing to do with sorrow or suffering, or any wish 
to alleviate the pressure of either, would not desire 
that their manner should be so fraught with sym- 
pathy, as to impart the consolation they may be 
unable to express in words ? 

Who, on the other hand, in a world which all 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 11} 


the afflicted are disposed to consider cold and un- 
feeling, has not felt what it was, to meet with that 
peculiar tone of voice, that long, earnest gaze of 
the eye, and that watchfulness of personal comfort, 
which belong to a degree of interest deeper than 
can be told, and which convince, beyond the power 
of language, that we are not—we cannot be over- 
looked or forgotten? How many an alien has 
been invited to return by a look, a tone, a gesture, 
when no power of speech would have conveyed 
the same impression of a welcome! How many 
a prejudice has been overcome—how many a 
dangerous resolution broken—how many a dark 
design defeated by a conciliating and confiding 
manner ! and may it not also be asked, how many 
an insult has been repelled by a manner fraught 
with dignity; how many an injury has been 
returned into the bosom where it originated, by 
a manner which conveyed all the bitterness of 
cherished and determined revenge ? 

To those who make the human mind their study, 
the mode of acting is of more importance than 
the action itself; and to women it is especially so, 
because the sphere in which they actually move is 
comparatively limited and obscure. It is seldom 
regarded as consistent with that delicacy which 
forms so great a charm in their nature, that they 


112 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


should act out to their full extent all the deep 
feelings of which they are capable. Thus there is 
no other channel for their perpetual overflow, than 
that of their manners; and thus a sensitive and 
ingenious woman can exhibit much of her own 
character, and lead others out, into the display of 
much of theirs, simply by the instrumentality of 
her manners; and, upon the same principle, that 
good breeding which obtains the highest applause 
1 society, is but an imitation or assumption of 
every moral excellence, depicted on a minor scale. 
Good manners are the small-coin of virtue, dis- 
tributed abroad as an earnest—we will not ask 
how fallacious—of the greater and better things 
that he beyond. ‘The women of England are be- 
coming increasingly solicitous about their manners, 
that. they may in all points resemble such as pre- 
vail in a higher circle of society, and be, conse- 
quently, the best. But would it not be more 
advantageous to them, to bestow the same increase 
of solicitude upon what constitutes the true foun- 
dation of all that is amiable and excellent in life 
and conduct? Would it not be more advantageous 
to them to remember, that in the sphere of life 
appointed for them to fill, stronger and more effi- 
cient traits of character are required, than can 
possibly be classed under the epithet of ladylike? 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 118 


Not that coarseness or vulgarity of manner could 
ever be tolerated in those delicate intimacies, and 
intellectual associations, which properly belong to 
the class of women of whom England had once a 
right to boast—intimacies and associations, inter- 
vening, like gleams of sunshine, between their 
seasons of perplexity and care; but the manners I 
would earnestly recommend to my countrywomen 
are of a character calculated to convey an idea of 
much more than refinement; they are manners to 
which a high degree of moral influence belongs, 
inasmuch as they inspire confidence, command 
esteem, and contribute to the general sum of 
human happiness. 

Adaptation is the leading feature in this class of 
manners—adaptation, not only to the circum- 
stances of the person who acts and speaks, but 
also to the circumstances of those upon whom such 
speech or action operates. A light, careless, 
sportive manner is sometimes thought exceedingly 
charming; and when it emanates from youth and 
innocence, can scarcely fail to please; but when 
such a manner is affected by a-woman of ponder- 
ous personal weight, of naturally grave counte- 
nance, and responsible station in society, none can 
avoid being struck with the obvious anomaly, and 
few can avoid being moved to laughter or contempt. — 

F2 


= 


114 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


In English society it frequently happens that 
persons of humble parentage, and homely station, 
in early life, are raised, by the acquisition of 
wealth, to the enjoyment of luxurious indulgence. 
How absurd in such cases, is that assumption of 
delicacy and of aristocratic dignity, which we too 
often see, and which is sure to give rise to every 
variety of uncharitable remark upon what they 
and their families have been. 

Self-importance, or rather a prevailing con- 
sciousness of self, is the most universal hinderance 
to the attainment of agreeable manners. A woman 
of delicate feelings and cultivated mind, who goes 
into company determined to be interested, rather 
than to interest, can scarcely fail to please. -We 
are assured, however, that in this respect there is 
something very defective in the present state of 
‘society. All desire to make an impression, none 
to be impressed; and thus the social intercourse 
of every day is rendered wearisome if not disgust- 
ing, by the constant struggle of each contending 
. party to assume the same relative position. 

An instance relating immediately to an anima 
of inferior grade in the creation to man, but bear- 
ing some affinity to the case in point, is told by a 
traveller, whose party having shot several old 
monkeys, took home their young ones to the camp 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 115 


where he. was stationed. He amused himself in 
the evening by watching these little animals, 
which had been so accustomed to be caressed and 
carried about by their parents, that they expected 
the same services from each other, and by their 
persevering efforts to obtain assistance from those 
who in an equal degree required it from them, 
formed themselves into a tumultuous heap, and 
nearly worried each other to death. 

It might be invidious to compare the tumult of 
feeling, the weariness, and the fatality to happi- 
ness experienced by these animals, to that which 
is produced by the general desire to make an 
impression, in modern society; but none can be 
blind to the fact, that a determination to be 
pleased in company, is the surest means of giving 
pleasure, as well as of receiving it. 

A young lady who has not had an opportunity 
vf conversing, of playing, or of showing off in any 
other way, is almost sure to return from an even- 
ing party complaining of its dulness, and discon- 
tented with herself, as well as withevery one beside. 
Ask her if such and such agreeable and intelli- 
gent persons were not present; and she answers, 
“Yes.” Ask her if they did not converse, and 
converse pleasantly; and still she answers, “ Yes.” 
What then? The fact is, she has herself made no 


116 DRESS AND MANNERS OF 


Impression, charmed nobody, and therefore, as a 
necessary consequence, she is not charmed. 

How much more happiness does that woman 
experience, who, when in company, directs her 
attention to her nearest neighbour; and, behold- 
ing a cheerful countenance, or hearing a pleasant 
voice, is encouraged to proceed in cultivating an 
acquaintance, which may ultimately ripen into 
friendship, may teach her some useful lesson, or 
raise her estimate of her fellow-creatures. Even 
where no such agreeable results are experienced, . 
where the party attempted proves wholly imprac- 
ticable, there is still a satisfaction in having made _ 
the trial, far beyond what can be experienced by _ 
any defeated attempt to be agreeable. Indeed, 
the disappointment of having failed to make a 
pleasing impression, merely for the purpose of 
gratifying our own vanity, without reference to 
the happiness of others, is adapted in an especial 
manner to sour the temper, and depress the mind;. 
because we feel, along with the disappointment, 
a mortifying consciousness that our ambition has 
been of an undignified and selfish kind; while, if 
our endeavour has been to contribute to the 
general sum of social enjoyment, by encouraging 
the diffident, cultivating the acquaintance of the 
amiable, and stimulating latent talent, we cannot 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 117 


feel depressed by such a failure, nor mortified at 
our want of success. 

The great question with regard to modern edu- 
cation is, which of these two classes of feeling 
does it instil into the mind—does it inspire the 
young women of the present day with an amiable 
desire to make every body happy around them? 
or does it teach them only to sing, and play, and 
speak in foreign languages, and consequently 
leave them to be the prey of their own disap- 
| pointed feelings, whenever they find it impossible 
to make any of these qualifications tell upon 
society ? 


118 CONVERSATION OF 


CHAPTER V. 


CONVERSATION OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 


Ir may not, perhaps, be asking too much of the 
reader, to request that gentle personage to bear 
in mind, that in speaking both of the character- 
istics and the influence of a certain class of females, 
strict reference has been maintained, throughout 
the four preceding chapters, to such as may with 
justice be denominated true English women. 
With puerile exotics, bending from their own 
feebleness, and wandering like weeds, about the 
British garden, to the hinderance of the growth of 
all useful plants, this work has little to do, except 
to point out how they might have been cultivated 
to better purpose. 

I have said of English women, that they are the 
best fire-side companions; but I am afraid that 
my remark must apply to a very small portion of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 119 


the community at large. The number of those 
who are wholly destitute of the highest charm 
belonging to social companionship, is lamentably 
great: and these pages would never have been 
obtruded upon the notice of the public, had there 
not been strong symptoms of the number becoming 
greater still. 

Women have the choice of many means of 
bringing their principles into exercise, and of 
obtaining influence, both in their own domestic 
sphere, aud in society at large. Amongst the 
most important of these is conversation; an engine 
so powerful upon the minds and characters of man- 
kind in general, that beauty fades before it, and 
wealth in comparison is but as leaden coin. If 
match-making were indeed the great object of 
human life, I should scarcely dare to make this 
‘assertion, since few men choose women for their 
conversation, where wealth or beauty are to be 
had. I must, however, think more nobly of the 
female sex, and believe them more solicitous to’ 
maintain affection after the match is made, than 
simply to be led to the altar, as wives whose 
influence will that day be laid aside with their 
wreaths of white roses, and laid aside for ever. 

If. beauty or wealth have been the bait in this 
connexion, the bride may gather up her wreath of 


120 CONVERSATION OF 


roses, and place them again upon her polished 
brow; nay, she may bestow the treasures of her 
wealth without reserve, and permit the husband 
of her choice to 


“spoil her goodly lands, to gild his waste ;” 


she may do what she will—dress, bloom, or de~ 
scend from affluence to poverty ; butif she has no 
intellectual hold upon her husband’s heart, she 
must inevitably become that most helpless and 
pitiable of earthly objects—a slighted wife. 

Conversation, understood in its proper charac- 
ter, as distinct from mere talk, might rescue her 
from this. Not conversation upon books, if her 
husband happens to be a fox-hunter; nor upon 
fox-hunting, if he is a book-worm; but exactly 
that kind of conversation which is best adapted to 
his tastes and habits, yet at the same time capable 
of leading him a little out of both into a wider 
field of observation, and subjects he may never 
have derived amusement from before, simply from 
the fact of their never having been presented to 
his notice. 

How pleasantly the evening hours may be made 
to pass, when a woman who really can converse, 
will thus beguile the time. But, on the other 
hand, how wretched is the portion of that man 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 121 


“who dreads the dulness of his own fireside! who 
sees the clog of his existence ever seated there— 
the same, in the deadening influence she has upon 
his spirits to-day, as yesterday, to-morrow, and 
the next day, and the next! Welcome, thrice 
welcome, is the often-invited visiter, who breaks 
the dismal dual of this scene. 

Married women are often spoken of in high 
terms of commendation for their personal services, 
their handiwork, and their domestic management ; 
but I am inclined to think that a married woman, 
possessing all these, and even beauty too, yet 
wanting conversation, might become “ weary, 
stale, flat, and unprofitable,” in the estimation of 
her husband ; and, finally, might drive him from 
his home by the leaden weight of her uncompa- 
nionable society. 

I know not whether other minds have felt the 
same as mine under the pressure of some personal 
presence without fellowship of feeling. Innocent 
and harmless the individual may be who thus 
inflicts the grievance, yet there is an irksomeness 
in their mere bodily presence, almost intolerable 
to be borne; and in proportion to the estimate 
we form of real society, and companionship, and 
sympathy of feeling, is the dread we entertain of 
association with mere animal life in its human 


122 CONVERSATION OF 


form, while nothing of this fellowship of feeling is 
experienced. 

There cannot, however, be a greater mistake in 
the science of being agreeable, than to suppose 
that conversation must be made a business of. 
Oh! the misery of being pitted against a profes- 
sional converser !—one who looks from side to side 
until a vacant ear is found, and commences a bat- 
tery of declamation if you will not answer, and of 
argument if you will. Indeed the immense variety 
of annoyances deducible from ill-managed conver- 
sation, are a sufficient proof of its importance in 
society; and any one disposed to dispute this fact, 
need only recall the many familiar instances of 
disappointment and chagrin, which all who mix in 
any manner with what is called the world, must 
have experienced, from mistaken views of what is 
agreeable in conversation. 

It would be vain to attempt an enumeration of 
the different aspects under which this peculiar 
kind of annoyance presents itself. A few heads 
will be sufficient for the different classes of injudi- 
cious talkers. First, then, we naturally think of 
those who have obtained the conventional appel- 
lation of bores ; or, to describe them more politely, 
the class of talkers whose over-solicitude is pro- 
portioned to their difficulty in obtaining patient 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 123 


hearers. These, again, may be subdivided into 
endless varieties, of which a few specimens will 
suffice. Yet amongst all these, even the most 
inveterate, may be found worthy individuals, whose 
qualifications for imparting both instruction and 
amusement are by no means contemptible. 
Entitled to distinction in the art of annoyance 
are the hobby-riders—those who not only ride a 
favourite hobby themselves, but expect every one 
they meet with to mount and ride the same. It 
matters not whether their ruling subject be paint- 
ing or politics, except that minds devoted to the 
fine arts have generally about them some delicacy 
as to the reception of their favourites, and are too 
shrinkingly alive to the slights they may receive, 
to risk their introduction without some indication 
of awelcome. Still there are exceptions even to 
this rule, and nothing can be more wearisome to 
the uninitiated, or more unintelligible to the un- 
practised ear, than the jargon poured forth by an 
amateur painter without regard to the tastes or 
the understandings of those around him. 
Perhaps his fellow-traveller is seated on some 
gentle eminence, drinking in the deep quiet of a 
summer’s evening, not merely from sight, but 
sound, and blending all with treasured memories of 


124 CONVERSATION OF 


the past, in which no stranger could intermeddle, 
when the painter bursts upon him with his techni- 
calities, and the illusion is gone. He raves about 
the breadth of the colouring. His companion sees 
the long tall shadows of the trees reflected on the 
sloping green, with the golden sunset gleaming in 
between the stems, and through the interstices of 
the foliage, and he knows not where the poetry 
or even the truth of this wonderful property of 
breadth can be. The painter descants upon the 
bringing out of the distant cottage from the wood. 
His companion is of opinion it would be better to 
let it remain where it is—half hid in the retire- 
ment of the forest, and sending up, as it seems, 
from the very bosom of the silent shade, its wreath 
of curling smoke to indicate the social scene 
beneath its rustic roof, prepared for, by the light- 
ing of the woodman’s fire. But the painter is not 
satisfied. He calls upon his friend to observe the 
grouping of the whole. He must have the outline 
broken. ‘The thing is done. His sketch is exhi- 
bited in triumph, and he raves on, with accelerated 
delight, for he has cleft the hills in twain, and 
placed a group of robbers on the broken ground. 
Alas! how should his companion believe or under- 
stand! His thoughts are expatiating upon that 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 195 


scene, because its sloping hills, and cultivated 
fields, and gardens, and orchards, and village 
churchyard, are like the spot where he was born, 
and where his father died—and he sees no moun- 
tain gorge, nor bandit chief, nor hears the rush of 
torrents on the breeze; but his eye dwells again 
upon the apple-tree in its spring-bloom, and the 
lambs upon the lea, and his ear is open to the 
cooing of the wood-pigeon on the chesnut boughs, 
and the sound of voices—than all other sounds 
more sweet—the voices that spoke kindly to his 
childhood. 

It might be supposed that, if under any circum- 
stances the society of a painter could be always 
welcome, it would be amongst the varied scenes 
of a picturesque tour. But even here the mind has 
pictures of its own, and he who is perpetually 
telling you what to see, might as well force upon 
you at every view, the use of his camera lucida, 
and neither allow you to gaze upon nature as you 
wish to behold it, nor as it really is. 

Women are perhaps less addicted than men to 
annoy others with their pet subjects; because they 
have less opportunity of following out any parti- 
cular branch of art or study, to the exclusion of 
others; and politics, that most prevalent and 
unceasing absorbent of conversation, is seldom a 


126 CONVERSATION OF 


favourite theme with them. ‘They have, however, 
their houses and their servants, and, what is infi- 
nitely worse—they have themselves. 

Perhaps accustomed to a little private admira- 
tion in a remote corner of the world, they obtain 
a false estimate of their own importance, and act 
as if they thought no subject so interesting as that 
which turns upon their own experience, their own 
peculiarities, or even their.own faults. It does not 
always follow that such women admire themselves 
so much as the prevalence of self in their con- 
versation would at first lead us to suppose, for in 
expatiating upon the good qualities of others, they 
often exclaim—and why should we doubt their sin- 
cerity ?—how much they wish they were like the 
beings they extol! ‘They will even speak dispa- 
ragingly of themselves, and tell of their own faults 
without occasion ; but even while they do this with 
an air of humility, they seldom fail to leave an 
impression on the minds of their hearers, that in 
reality they like their own faults better than the 
virtues of others. 

It is not of much consequence what is the nature 
of the subject proposed to the attention of this 
class of talkers. If the weather: “It does not agree 
with me, J like the wind from the west.” If the 
volitics of the country in which they live: ‘ Z have 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 127 


not given much attention to politics, nor do Z think 
that women should.” If any moral quality in the 
abstract is discussed: “Oh, that is just my fault !” 
or, “If J possess any virtue, I do think it is that.” 
If an anecdote is related: “'That is like [or not 
like] me. J should [or should not] have done the 
same.” If the beauty of any distant place is de- 
scribed : “ J never was there, but my uncle once 
was within ten miles of it; and had it not been for 
the miscarriage of a letter, J should have been his 
companion in that journey. My uncle was always 
fond of taking me with him. Dear good man, J 
was a great pet of his.” Ifthe lapse of time is 
the subject of conversation: ‘The character 
undergoes many changes in a few years. I won- 
der whether, or in what way, mine will be altered 
two years hence.” If the moon: “How many 
people write sonnets tothe moon. J never did.” 
_And thus sun, moon, and stars—the whole 
created universe—are but links in that continuous 
chain which vibrates with perpetual music to the 
egotist, connecting all things in heaven and earth, 
however discordant or heterogeneous, by a perfect 
and harmonious union with self. 
A very slight degree of observation would enable 
such individuals to perceive that as soon as self is 
put in the place of any of the subjects in question, 


128 CONVERSATION OF 


conversation necessarily flags, as this topic, to say 
the least of it, cannot be familiar to both parties. 
On one side, therefore, nothing farther remains to 
be said; for, however lovely the egotist may be in 
her own person, no man, or woman either, is pre- 
pared to have her substituted for the world in 
general, though it seems more than probable that 
the individual herself might not object to such a 
transposition. 

It is difficult to decide, whether the annoyance 
arising from maternal eloquence, should be placed 
before or after that arising from the prevalence of 
self in conversation ; but certainly there are many 
who can speak feelingly, of the never-ending 
penance they have to endure from the partial 
views, and warm feelings of injudicious mothers, 
leading them out into a series of comments and 
commendations, as interminable as the freaks and 
supposed eccentricities of their own little cherubs, 
in whose flaxen hair, and chubby faces, the beholder 
sees nothing to distinguish them from other chil- 
dren. Yet such are the features presented to the eye 
of the fond mother, that she believes no infant ever 
looked or lisped so sweetly as herown And, happy 
is it for her that a kind Providence has implanted 
in her bosom this conviction. We would only whis- — 
per in her ear, that there are others to whom the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 129 


ease admits of doubt; and while they have too 
much kind feeling to wish to undeceive her, she 
ought at least to spare them the persecution, in 
which, by their silent acquiescence, they are some- 
times involved. 

Another class of annoying talkers, whose claims 
to eminence in this line I am in no way disposed 
to contest, consists of the talkers of mere common- 
place—those who say nothing but what we could 
haye said ourselves, had we deemed it worth our 
while, and who never on any occasion, or by any 
chance, give utterance to a new idea. Such 
people wi// talk. ‘They seem to consider it their 
especial duty to talk, and no symptoms of inat- 
tention in their hearers, no impatient answer nor 
averted ear, nor even the interminable monotony 
of their own prattle, has the power to hush them 
into silence. If they fail in one thing, they try 
another; but, unfortunately for them, there is 
a transmuting medium in their own discourse, that 
would turn to dust the golden opinions of the 
wisest of men. 

We naturally ask in what consists that objec- 
tionable common-place of which we complain, since 
the tenor of their conversation is -not unlike the 
conversation of others. It is in reality éoo like, too 
much composed of the fillings-up of conversation 

G 


130 CONVERSATION OF 


in general. It has nothing distinctive in it, and, 
like certain letters we have seen, would answer 
the purpose as well, if addressed to one individual 
as another. 

The talker of common-place is always interested 
in the weather, which forms an all-sufficient re- 
source when other subjects fail. One would 
think, from the frequency with which the indi- 
vidual remarks upon the rising of clouds, and 
the falling of rain, she was perpetually on the 
point of setting out on a journey. But she treats 
the seasons with the same respect, and loses no 
opportunity of telling the farmer who is silently 
suffering from a wet harvest, that the autumn has 
been unusually unpropitious. If you cough, she 
hopes you have not taken cold, but really colds 
are extremely prevalent. If you bring out your 
work, she admires both your industry and your 
taste, and assures you that rich colours are well 
thrown off by adark ground. If books are the 
subject of conservation, she inquires whether you 
have read one that has just had a twelvemonth’s 
run of popularity. She thinks that authors some- 
times go a little too far, but concludes with what 
appears in her opinion to be a universal case, that 
much may be said on both sides. From books 
she proceeds to authors; expatiates upon the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 131 


imagination of Shakspeare, and the strength of 
mind possessed by Hannah More; and delibe- 
rately inquires whether you do not agree with her 
in her sentiments respecting both. Nay, so far 
does reality exceed imagination, that I once heard 
a very sweet and amiable woman, whose desire to 
be at the same time both edifying and agreeable, 
somewhat outran her originality of thought, ex- 
claim, in one of those pauses incident to conver- 
sation—* What an excellent book the Bible is!” 
Now, there is no gainsaying such an assertion, 
and it is almost equally impossible to assent. 
Conversation, therefore, always flags where com- 
mon-place exists, because it elicits nothing, 
touches no answering chord, nor conveys any 
other idea than that of bare sound, to the ear of 
the reluctant listener. 

Another and most prolific source of annoyance 
is found amongst that class of persons who choose 
to converse on subjects interesting to themselves, 
without regard to time, or place, or general appro- 
priateness. Whatever they take up, either as their 
ruling topic, or as one of momentary interest, is 
forced upon society, whether in season or out of 
season; and they often feel surprised and mor- 
tified that their favourite subjects, in themselves 
uot unfrequently well chosen, are received by 


132 CONVERSATION OF 


others with so cold a welcome. How many 
worthy individuals, whose minds are richly stored, 
and whose laudable desire is to disseminate use- 
ful knowledge, entirely defeat their own ends by 
this want of adaptation; and many, whose con- 
versation might be both amusing and instruc- 
tive, from this cause seldom meet with a patient 
hearer. 

Old people are peculiarly liable to this error; 
and it would be well to provide against the gar- 
rulity and wearisomeness of advanced age, by cul- 
tivating such powers of discrimination as would 
enable us habitually to discover what is accept- 
able, or otherwise, in conversation. 

It occasionally happens that the mistress of a 
house, the kind hospitable mistress, who has been 
at a world of pains to make every body comfort- 
able, is the very last person at the table, beside 
whom any of her guests would desire to be placed ; 
because they know, that being once linked in with 
her interminable chain of prattle, they will have 
no chance of escape until the ladies rise to with- 
draw; and there are few who would not prefer 
quietly partaking of her soups and sauces, to 
hearing them described. Women of this descrip- 
tion, having tired out every body at home, and 
taught every ear to turn away, are voracious of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 133 


attention when they can command it, or even that 
appearance of it which the visiter politely puts 
on. Charmed with the novelty of her situation 
in having caught a hearer, she makes the most of 
him. Warming with her subject, and describing 
still more copiously, she looks into his face with 
an expression bordering on ecstasy; and were it 
not that she considerately spares him the task of a 
rejoinder, his situation would be as intolerable as 
the common routine of table-talk could make it. 

In about the same class of agreeables with this 
good lady, might be placed the profuse teller of 
tales, whose natural flow of language and fertility 
of ideas lead her so far away from the original 
story, that neither the narrator nor the listener 
would be able to answer, if suddenly inquired of-— 
what the story was about. ‘This is a very com- 
mon fault amongst female talkers, whose versa- 
tility of mind and sensibility of feeling, render 
them peculiarly liable to be diverted from any 
definite object. It is only wonderful that the 
same quickness of apprehension does not teach 
them the impossibility of obtaining hearers on 
such terms. 

Nor must we forget, amongst the abuses of con- 
versation, the random talkers,—those who talk 
from impulse only, and rush upon you with what- 


134 CONVERSATION OF 


ever happens to be uppermost in their own minds, 
or most pleasing to their fancy at the time, with- 
out waiting to ascertain whether the individual 
they address is sad or merry,—at liberty to listen, 
or preoccupied with some weightier and more 
interesting subject. 

Whatever the topic of conversation, thus ob- 
truded upon society, may be, it is evident there 
must be a native obtuseness and vulgarity in the 
mind of the individual who thus offends, or she 
would wait before she spoke, to tune her voice to 
some degree of harmony with the feelings of those 
around her. 

Thus far we have noticed only the trifling 
abuses of conversation, and of such we have, per- 
haps already, had more than enough; though the 
catalogue might easily be continued through as 
many volumes as it occupies pages here. ‘There 
are other aspects more serious, under: which the 
abuse of conversation must be contemplated ; and 
the first of these is—as it relates to carelessness 
or design in exercising its power to give pain. 

It is difficult to conceive that a deliberate desire 
to give pain could exist in any but the most malig- 
nant bosom; but habitual want of regard to what 
is painful to others, may easily be the cause of 
inflicting upon them real misery. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 135 


We have all observed—perhaps some of us felt, 
the sting of a taunting or an ill-timed jest; and 
never is the suffering it occasions, or the effect it 
produces, so much to be regretted, as when it 
wrings sharp tears from the gentle eyes of child- 
hood. Ye know not what ye do—might well be 
said to those who thus burn up the blossoms of 
youth, and send back the fresh, warm current 
of feeling, to stagnate at the heart. 

It would be impossible, even if such were our 
object, always to discover exactly when we did 
give pain; but surely it would be a study well 
worthy of a benevolent and enlightened mind, to 
ascertain the fact, with as much precision as we 
are capable of. What, for instance, do we feel 
on being called upon to sympathize with a young 
lady, who is at the same moment pointed out to 
us as one whose father a short time before had 
put an end to his existence, when the recollection 
simultaneously flashes upon us, that during the 
whole of the past evening, we engaged the atten- 
tion of the very same young lady with a detailed 
account of the melancholy scenes we had some- 
times witnessed in an insane asylum? Yet, 
neither the pain inflicted by such conversation is 
greater, nor is its carelessness more culpable in 
us, than is that of a large portion of the ill- 


136 CONVERSATION OF 


judged, random speeches we give utterance to 
every day. 

Nor is it in common conversation that careless- 
ness of giving pain is felt, so much as in the 
necessary duties of advising and finding fault. 
I am inclined to think no very agreeable way of 
telling people of their faults has ever yet been 
discovered; but certainly there is a difference, as 
great as that which separates light from darkness, 
between reproof judiciously and injudiciously ad- 
ministered. By carelessness in not regulating our 
tones, and looks, and manner, when reproving 
others, we may convey either too much, or too 
little meaning, and thus defeat our own purposes; 
we may even convey an impression the exact 
opposite of that designed, and awaken feelings 
of bitterness, revenge, and malignity, in the mind 
of the individual we are solicitous to serve. 

Let no one therefore presume to do good, either 
by instruction or advice, unless they have learned 
something of the human heart. It may appear, 
on the first view of the subject, a difficult and 
arduous study, but it is one that never can be 
begun too early or pursued too long. It is one 
also, in the pursuit of which women never need 
despair, as they possess the universal key of sym- 
pathy, by which all hearts may be unlocked,— 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 137 


some, it is true, with considerable difficulty, and 
some but partially at last; yet, if the key be 
applied by a delicate and skilful hand, there is 
little doubt but some measure of success will 
reward the endeavour. 

We have said before, and we again repeat, it 
is scarcely possible to believe that beings consti- 
tuted as women are—kindly affectioned, and ten- 
derly susceptible of pain themselves—should be 
capable of wantonly and designedly inflicting pain 
upon others. Nature revolts from the thought. 
We look at the smile of beauty, and exclaim, 
‘‘ Impossible!” We pursue the benevolent visit- 
ant of the sick in her errands of mercy, and say, 
“It cannot be.” Yet, after all, we fear it must be 
charged upon the female sex, that they do assist 
occasionally in the circulation of petty scandal, 
and that it is not always from carelessness that 
they let slip the envenomed shaft, or speak dag- 
gers where they dare not use them. Nor are the 
speakers alone to blame. The hearers ought at 
least to participate, for if the habit of depreciating 
character were discountenanced in society, it would 
soon cease to exist, or exist only in occasional at- 
tempts, to be defeated as soon as made. 

Few women have the hardihood to confess that 
they delight in this kind of conversation. But let 

G2 


138 ; CONVERSATION OF 


the experiment be made in mixed society, of 
course not under the influence of true religious 
feeling, though perhaps the party might be such 
as would feel a little scandalized at being told 
they were not. Let a clever and sarcastic woman 
take the field, not, professedly, to talk against her 
neighbours on her own authority, but to throw in 
the hearsay of the day, by way of spice to the 
general conversation; giving to a public man, his 
private stigma—to an author, his unsaleable book 
—to the rich man, his trading ancestry—to the 
poor, his unquestionable imprudence—to the beau, 
his borrowed plumes,—and to the belle, her arti- 
ficial bloom. We grant that this mass of poison- 
ing matter thrown in at once, would be likely to 
offend the taste. It must therefore be skilfully 
proportioned, distributed with nice distinction, 
and dressed up with care. Will there not then be 
a large proportion of attentive listeners gathered 
round the speaker, smiling a ready assent to what 
they had themselves not dared to utter, and nod- 
ding, as if in silent recognition of some fact they 
had previously been made acquainted with in a 
more private way ? 

Now all this while there may be seated in an- 
other part of the room, a person whose sole busi- 
ness is to tell the good she knows, believes, or 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 189 


has heard of others. She is not a mere relater 
of facts, but equally talented, shrewd, and dis- 
criminating with the opposite party, only she is 
restricted to the detail of what is good. 1 simply 
ask, for I wish not to pursue the subject farther, 
Which of these talkers will be likely to obtain the 
largest group of listeners ? 

It is not, after all, by any consistent or deter- 
mined attack upon character, that so much mis- 
chief is done, as by interlarding otherwise agree- 
able conversation with the sly hope of pretended 
charity—that certain things are not as they have 
been reported; or the kind wish—that apparent 
merit was real, or might last. 

English society is so happily constituted, that 
women have little temptation to any open vice. 
They must lose all respect for themselves, before 
they would venture so far to forget their respect- 
ability. But they have temptations as powerful 
to them, as open vice to others; and not the less 
so, for being insidious. Who would believe that 
the passions of envy, hatred, and revenge could 
lurk within the gentle bosom over which those 
folds of dove-coloured drapery are falling? ‘The 
lady has been prevailed upon to sing for the 
amusement of the company. Blushing and hesi- 
tating, she is just about to be led to the place of 


140 CONVERSATION OF 


exhibition, when another movement, in a distant 
part of the room, where her own advance was not 
observed, has placed upon the seat of honour, 
a younger, and perhaps more levely woman; and 
she lays open the very piece of music which the 
lady in the dovelike colour had believed herself 
the only person present who could sing. The 
musician charms the company. The next day, 
our dove hears of nothing but this exquisite per- 
formance; and at last she is provoked to say, 
“ No wonder she plays so well, for I understand 
she does nothing else. Her mamma was ill the 
other day with a dreadful headach, and she 
played on, the whole afternoon, because she was 
going to a party in the evening, and wished to 
keep herseif in practice.” 

Now, there is little in this single speech. It is 
almost too trifling for remark; but it may serve 
as a specimen of thousands, which are no deter- 
mined falsehoods, nay, possibly, no falsehoods at 
all, and yet originate in feelings as diametrically 
opposed to christian meekness, love, and charity, 
as are the malignant passions of envy, hatred, 
and revenge. 

I must again repeat, that I know the evil 
exists not in this individual act, but in the state 
of the heart where it originates; yet I write thus 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 141 


earnestly about seeming trifles, because I believe 
few young persons are sufficiently alive to their 
importance; because I know that the minor 
morals of domestic life exercise a vital influence 
over the well-being of society; and because the 
peace of whole families is sometimes destroyed, 
by the outward observance of religious duty not 
being supported by an equally strenuous observ- 
ance of these delicate but essential points. 

In studying the art, or rather the duty of being 
agreeable—a duty which all kindly-disposed per- 
sons will be anxious to observe—it is of importance 
to inquire, from whence originate the errors here 
specified, with the long catalogue that might fol- 
low in their train? So far as they are confined 
to misapprehension of what is really agreeable, 
they may be said to originate in the innate self- 
ishness of our nature gaining the mastery over 
our judgment; beyond this, they originate in the 
evil propensities of the human heart, which, when 
the influence of popular feeling operates against 
their exhibition in any gross and palpable form, 
infuse themselves, as it were, into the very cur- 
rent of our existence, and poison all our secret 
springs of feeling. 

In order to correct the former, it 1s necessary 
that the judgment should be awakened. But as 


142 CONVERSATION OF 


habits of selfishness, long indulged, involve the 
understanding in a cloud too dense to be alto- 
gether dispelled, it is the more important that 
youth should be so trained as to acquire habits of 
constant and unremitting mental reference to the 
feelings and characters of others; so that a quick- 
ness of perception, almost like intuitive know-— 
ledge, shall enable them to carry out the kindly 
purposes they are taught to cherish, into the deli- 
cate and minute affairs of life, and thus render 
them the means not only of giving pleasure, but 
of warding off pain. 

It may appear a harsh conclusion to come to, 
that the little errors of conversation to which 
allusion has been made, and which are often con- 
spicuous in what are called good sort of people, 
really owe their existence to selfishness; but it 
should be remembered, that to this assertion the 
writer is far from adding, that those who act with 
more tact, and avoid such errors, are necessarily 
free from the same fault. “There may be a refined 
as well as a gross selfishness, and both may be 
equal in their intensity and power. 

But let us go back to the cases already speci- 
fied. If the artist were not habitually more intent 
upon his own gratification, than upon that of his 
companions, he would keep his hobby in the back 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 148 


ground, and allow himself time to perceive that 
the attention of his companion was pre-occupied 
by subjects more agreeable to him. The same 
may certainly be said of the more common fault of 
making se/f the ruling topic of conversation; and 
this applies with equal truth to self-depreciation, 
as to self-praise. 

The case is too clear and simple to need farther 
argument. It must be the Audit of acting from 
that first and most powerful impulse of our nature, 
and just pouring forth the fulness of our own 
hearts, discharging our own imagination of its 
load, and emptying the storehouse of our own 
memory, without regard to fitness or preparation 
in the soil upon which the seed may fall, or the 
harvest it is likely to produce, that renders con- | 
versation sometimes tasteless and vapid, and some- 
times inexpressibly annoying. 

The weightier responsibilities which attach to 
the talent of conversation, do not appear to fall 
directly within the compass of a work expressly 
devoted to the morals of domestic life. It is, how- 
ever, a fact of great importance to establish, that a 
woman’s private conversation—for in public they 
converse too much alike—is the surest evidence 
of her mind being imbued, or not imbued with 
just and religious principles; that where it is 


144 CONVERSATION OF 


uniformly trifling, there can be no predominating 
desire to promote the interests of religion in the 
world; and where, on the other hand, it is uni 
formly solemn and sedate, it is ill calculated to 
recommend the course it would advocate with 
effect; that where it abounds in sarcasm, invec- 
tive, and abuse even of what is evil, it never 
emanates from a mind in perfect unison with what 
is good; and that, where it is always smooth, and 
sweet, and complacent, it must be deficient in one 
of the grand uses of conversation—its correction 
and reproof: finally, that where it is carried on in 
public or in private, without the least desire to 
elicit truth, to correct mistakes in relation or opi- 
nion, to establish principle, to disseminate useful 
knowledge, to warn of danger, or to perform that 
most difficult, but most important of all duties— 
to correct the faults of friends—there must be 
something wrong at the heart’s core, from whence 
this waste of words is flowing; and sad will be 
the final account, if, for each day of a lengthened 
existence upon earth, this great engine of moral 
good and evil has been thus performing its fruit- 
less labour—for time, without an object; for 
eternity, without reward. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 145 


CHAPTER VI. 


CCNVERSATION. 


Ir may appear somewhat paradoxical to commence 
a chapter on the uses of conversation, by pointing 
out the uses of being silent; yet such is the im- 
portance to a woman, of knowing exactly when to 
cease from conversation, and when to withhold it 
altogether, that the silence of the female sex seems 
to have become proverbially synonymous with a 
degree of merit almost too great to be believed in 
as afact. ‘There could be no agreeable conversa- 
tion carried on, if there were no good listeners ; 
and from her position in society, it is the peculiar 
province of a woman, rather to lead others out 
into animated and intelligent communication, than 
to be intent upon making communications from 
the resources of her own mind. 

Besides this, there are times when men, espe- 
cially if they are of moody temperament, are more 


{46 CONVERSATION OF 


offended and annoyed by being talked to, than 
they could be by the greatest personal affront from 
the same quarter ; and a woman of taste will rea 
dily detect the forbidding frown, the close-shut 
lips, and the averted eye, which indicate a deter- 
mination not to be drawn out. She will then find 
opportunity for the indulgence of those secret 
trains of thought and feeling which naturally 
arise in every human mind; and while she plies 
her busy needle, and sits quietly musing by the 
side of her husband, her father, or her brother, 
she may be adding fresh materials from the world 
of thought, to that fund of conversational amuse- 
ment, which she is ever ready to bring forward for 
their use. 

By the art of conversation, therefore, as I am 
about to treat the subject in the present chapter, 
I would by no means be understood to mean the 
mere act of talking, but that cultivation and exer- 
cise of the conversational powers which is most 
conducive to social enjoyment, and most productive 
of beneficial influence upon our fellow-creatures. 

I have already asserted of conversation, that it 
is a fruitful source of human happiness and misery, 
a powerful engine of moral good and evil; and 
few, I should suppose, would deny the truth of 
this assertion. Yet, notwithstanding the preva- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 147 


lence of this conviction, the art of conversation is 
seldom or never cultivated as a branch of modern 
education. It is true, the youthful mind is stimu- 
lated into early and immature expansion; and 
the youthful memory is stored with facts; but 
the young student, released from the trammels a 
school discipline, is thrown upon society in a state 
of total ignorance of the means of imparting her 
knowledge so as to render it available in raising 
the general tone of conversation; and the conse- 
quence mostly is, she is so engrossed by the new 
life into which she is suddenly introduced, and so 
occupied in learning what must be acquired before 
she can make any respectable figure in what is 
called society, that she closes the door upon the 
storehouse she has spent so many years of her life 
in filling ; and finding little use for the materials 
accumulated there, is only known in after years 
to have had a good education, by hearing her 
occasionally exclaim—‘“I learned all about that 
at school, but have entirely forgotten it since.” 
The English woman, whose peculiar part it is to 
blend all that is productive of benefit in her intel- 
lectual powers, with all that is conducive to happi- 
ness in her affections, would do well to give her 
attention as early as possible to the uses of con- 
versation; and if a system could be formed for 


148 CONVERSATION OF 


teaching some of the simple rules of conversation 
as an art, it would be found more advantageous to 
women in their social capacity, than many of the 
branches of learning which they now spend years 
in acquiring. 

To converse by rule has indeed a startling 
sound, and few, we are apt to conclude, ona 
slight consideration of the subject, would recom- 
mend themselves by such a process. ‘The same 
conclusion, however, is always rushed upon by the 
young genius who first begins to try her skill in 
the sister arts of painting and poetry. Yet, in 
proceeding, she finds at every step, that there 
must be a rule, a plan, a system, or that genius, 
with all her profusion of materials, will be unable 
to form them into such a whole as will afford 
pleasure even to the most uninitiated. 

I am aware I incur some risk of being charged 
both with ignorance and enthusiasm, when I ex- 
press my belief that the art of conversation might 
in some measure be reduced to a system, taught 
in our schools, and rendered an important part of 
female education; but I am not aware that my 
belief can be proved to be ill-founded, until the 
experiment has been fairly tried. 

Let an individual who has never heard of 
botany, go forth into one of our English meadows 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 149 


in the month of June, and gaze upon the luxuriance 
of flowers, and leaves, and shooting stems, which 
there would meet his eye. Tell him that all these 
distinct and separate plants have been classed, and 
resolved into their appropriate orders, and he will 
exclaim, “Impossible ! it cannot be.” 

I must allow that the case is not, strictly speak- 
ing, asimilar one. ‘There are difficulties of no 
trifling magnitude in reducing the faculties of the 
human mind to any thing like order, and in laying 
down rules for the promotion of human happiness, 
except on the broad scale of moral philosophy. 
But let the two cases be fairly tried, and I am 
still unconvinced that the most apparently imprac- 
ticable would not be attended with a measure of 
success. 

If we consider the number of books that have 
been written on the subject of botany, the number 
of lectures that have been delivered, the number of 
years it has been taught, and the number of wise 
men who have made it their chief study: and if 
in comparison with a subject upon which such 
vast machinery of mind has been brought to ope- 
rate, we do but mention that of Conversation, to 
which no one entire volume has, perhaps, ever yet 
been devoted, a smile of derision will most probably 
be the only notice our observation will excite. 


150 CONVERSATION OF 


I would not be understood to speak lightly of 
a knowledge of botany, or to depreciate the value 
of any other science. All I would maintain is 
this, that to know every thing that can be known 
in art and nature, is of little value to a woman, if 
she has not at the same time learned to communi- 
cate her knowledge in such a manner as to render 
it agreeable and serviceable to others. 

A woman does not converse more agreeably, 
because she is able to define botanically the differ- 
ence between a rose and a buttercup, though it 
may be desirable to be able to do so when asked; 
but because she has a quick insight into character, 
has tact to select the subjects of conversation best 
suited to her auditors, and to pursue them just 
so long as they excite interest, and engage atten- 
tion. 

With regard to the art of conversation, there- 
fore, adaptation may be laid down as the primary 
rule—vivacity, or rather freshness, as the second 
—and the establishment of a fact, or the deduc- 
tion of a moral, as the third. 

Why should not the leisure hours at school be 
filled up by the practice of these rules, not only 
as a recreation, but as a pleasing art, in which it 
would be much to the advantage of every woman 
to excel? Why should not the mistress of the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 151 


school devote her time occasionally to the exercise 
of this art in the midst of her pupils, who might 
by her winning manners be invited in their turn 
to practise upon her? And why should not some 
plan be invented for encouraging the same exer- 
cise amongst the junior members of the establish- 
ment? Each girl, for instance, might be appointed 
for a day or a week, the converser with, or enter- 
tainer of, one of her fellow-students, taking all in 
rotation; so that in their hours of leisure, it 
should be her business to devote herself to her 
companion, as it is that of a host to a guest. 
A report should then be given in at the expira- 
tion of the day or week, by the girl whose part 
it was to be conversed with, and by encouraging 
her to state whether she has been annoyed or 
interested, wearied or amused, in the presence of 
her companion, who should in her turn have the 
liberty of commending or complaining of her, as 
an attentive or inattentive listener, a good or bad 
responder, such habits of candour and sincerity 
would be cultivated, as are of essential service in 
the formation of the moral character. 

The practice of this art, as here recommended, 
would not necessarily be restricted in its operation 
to any particular number. ‘Those who attained 
the greatest proficiency might extend their con- 


152 CONVERSATION OF 


versational powers to other members of the estab- 
lishment; and thus might be constituted little 
amicable societies, in which all the faculties most 
likely to recommend the young students in their 
future association with the world, would be called 
into exercise, and rendered conducive to the 
general good. 

To the class of women chiefly referred to in 
this work, it is perhaps most important that they 
should be able to converse with interest and effect. 
A large portion of their time is spent in the use- 
ful labour of the needle, an occupation which of 
all others requires something to vary its mono- 
tony, and render less irksome its seemingly inter- 
minable duration; they are frequently employed 
in nursing the sick, when appropriate and well- 
timed conversation may occasionally beguile the 
sufferer into forgetfulness of pain; and they are 
also much at home—at their humble, quiet homes, 
where excitement from extraneous causes seldom 
comes, and where, if they are unacquainted with 
the art, and uninitiated in the practice of conver- 
sation, their days are indeed heavy, and their 
evenings worse than dull. 

The women of England are not only peculiarly 
in need of this delightful relaxation to blend with 
their daily cares; but, until the late rapid increase 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND, 153 


of superficial refinement, they were adapted, by 
their habits and mode of life, for cultivating their 
conversational powers in a very high degree. 
Their time was not occupied by the artificial 
embellishments of polished life, they were thrown 
directly upon their own resources for substantial 
comfort, and thus they acquired a foundation of 
character which rendered their conversation sen- 
sible, original, and full of point. It is greatly to 
be apprehended that the increased facilities for 
imparting instruction in the present day, have not 
produced a proportionate increase in the facilities 
of conversing; and it is well worthy the attention 
of those who give their time and thoughts to the 
invention of improved means of disseminating 
knowledge, to inquire what is the best method of 
doing this by conversation, as well as by books. 
It is not, however, strictly speaking, in impart- 
ing a knowledge of general facts, that the highest 
use of conversation consists. General facts may 
be recorded in books, and books may be circu- 
lated to the remotest range of civilized society, 
but there are delicate touches of feeling too eva- 
nescent to bear the impress of any tangible charac- 
ter; there are mental and spiritual appliances, 
that must be immediate to be available; and who 
has not known the time when they would have 
H 


}54 CONVERSATION OF 


given the wealth of worlds for the power to 
unburden their full hearts before the moment of 
acceptance should be gone, or the attentive ear 
be closed for ever ? 

The difficulty is seldom so great in knowing 
what ought to be said, as in knowing how to 
speak, what mode of expression would be most 
acceptable, or what turn the conversation ought 
to take, so as best to introduce the point in 
question. 

Nor is the management of the voice an unim- 
portant branch of this art. There are never-to-be- 
forgotten tones, with which some cruel word has 
been accompanied, that have impressed them- 
selves upon every heart; and there are also tones 
of kindness equally indelible, which had, perhaps, 
more influence at the time they were heard, than 
the language they were employed to convey. “It 
was not what she said, but the tone of voice in 
which she spoke,” is the complaint of many a 
wounded spirit; and welcome and soothing to 
the listening ear, is every tone that tells of hope 
and gladness. 

There is scarcely any source of enjoyment more 
immediately connected at once with the heart and 
with the mind, than that of listening to a sensi- 
ble and amiable woman when she converses in a 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 155 


melodious and well-regulated voice, when her lan- 
guage and pronunciation are easy and correct, 
and when she knows how to adapt her conver- 
sation to the characters and habits of those around 
her. 

Women, considered in their distinct and ab- 
stract nature, as isolated beings, must lose more 
than half their worth. ‘They are, in fact, from 
their own constitution, and from the station they 
occupy in the world, strictly speaking, relative 
creatures. If, therefore, they are endowed only 
with such faculties as render them striking and 
distinguished in themselves, without the faculty 
of instrumentality, they are only as dead letters 
in the volume of human life, filling what would 
otherwise be a blank space, but doing nothing 
more. 

All the knowledge in the world, therefore, 
without an easy and felicitous method of convey- 
ing it to others, would be but a profitless pos- 
session to a woman; while a very inferior portion 
of knowledge, with this method, might render her 
an interesting and delightful companion. 

None need despair, then, if shut out by homely 
avocations, by straitened means, or by other un- 
avoidable causes, from-learning all the lessons 
taught at school; for there are lessons to be 


156 CONVERSATION OF 


learned at home, around the domestic hearth, 
and even in the obscurity of rural life, perhaps 
of more importance in the summing-up of human 
happiness. . 

One of the popular uses of conversation is, to 
pass away time without being conscious of its 
duration; and, unworthy as this object unques- 
tionably is, the fact that conversation is em- 
ployed more than any other means for such a 
purpose, is a convincing proof of its importance 
and its power, 

It is so natural to converse, that one of the 
severest punishments inflicted upon degraded hu- 
man nature, is that of being denied the liberty of 
speech. How desirable is it, then, that what is 
done every hour in all classes of society, and un- 
der almost every variety of circumstance, should 
be done for some good purpose, and done in the 
best possible manner ! | 

To converse well in company, is a point of 
ambition with many women, and few are insen- 
sible to the homage paid by the most sincere of 
all flatterers—a group of attentive listeners. So 
far as this talent enables a woman of elevated 
mind to give a higher tone to conversation in 
general, it is indeed a valuable gift; but that ot 
being able to converse in an agreeable and appro- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND, 157 


priate manner in a sick-room, with an aged 
parent or distressed relative, or with a friend in 
delicate and trying circumstances, is a gift of far 
higher and more ennobling character. 

I have already remarked, that attendance upon 
che sick is one of the most frequent and familiar, 
at the same time that it is one of the most sacred 
of the duties devolving upon the class of women 
here described. It is much, to be able gently 
and skilfully to smooth the pillow for the aching 
head, to administer the cordial draught, to guide 
the feeble steps, and to watch through the sleep- 
less and protracted hours of night. But these 
are services rendered only to the suffering. body. 
The mind—the unextinguishable mind, may all 
the while be sorely in need of the oil with which 
its waning lamp should still be trimmed. And how 
shall this be administered? ‘The practised nurses 
hired for the occasion make rude and ill-advised 
attempts to raise the drooping spirits of the 
patient by their vulgar pleasantry ; books are too 
wearisome, and tell only of far-off and by-gone 
things, when the whole interest of the sufferer is 
coneentrated into the present moment, and fixed 
upon himself. 

It happens more frequently and more happily 
amongst the middle classes in England, that 


158 CONVERSATION OF 


nurses and domestics cannot well be hired, and 
that the chief attention required by the patient, 
devolves upon the females of the family. How 
differently in this case is the sufferer dealt with! 
There is no appearance of coming in expressly to 
converse with him; but while a gentle and kind- 
hearted woman steals with noiseless tread about 
the room, arranging every article of comfort, and 
giving to the whole apartment an air of refresh- 
ment or repose, she is watching every indication 
of an opening for conversation, that may beguile 
the lingering hours of their tediousness, and lead 
the sufferer to forget his pain. There are mo- 
ments,.even in seasons of sickness, when a little 
well-timed pleasantry is far from being unaccept- 
able. She watches for these, and turns them to 
account, by going just so far in her playfulness, 
as the exhausted frame can bear without injury. 
When sympathy is called for, as it is on such 
occasions almost unceasingly, she yields it freely 
and fully, though not to any prolonged extent, as 
regards the case immediately under her care; but 
continuing the same tone and manner, and with 
evidently the same feeling, she speaks of other 
cases of suffering, of some friend or neighbour; 
and the more recent and immediate the instances, 
the more likely they will be to divert the mind of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND 159 


the patient from himself. These of course are 
not brought forward with anything like a taunting 
insinuation that the patient is not worse than 
others, but simply as if her own mind was full of 
the impressions they are calculated to excite; and 
by these means, suiting her voice and her coun- 
tenance to the facts she is relating, she invests 
them with an interest which even to the selfish 
invalid is irresistible. 

Varying with every change in the temper and 
mood of the patient, her conversation assumes 
every variety that is calculated to please, always 
subdued and kept under by such delicate touches 
of feeling, such intense watchfulness, and such 
lively sensibility, that the faintest shadow cannot 
pass across the aching brow, nor the slightest 
indication of a smile across the lips, but it serves 
as an index for her either to change the subject of 
her discourse, to be silent, or to proceed. ‘There 
is along with all this a kindness in her voice which 
no pen was ever so eloquent as to describe; and 
there are moments of appealing weakness on 
the part of the invalid, when she pours forth the 
full tide of her affection, in language that pros- 
perity and health would never have taught her 
how to use. 

Beyond these seasons of intercourse, however, 


160 CONVERSATION OF 


and of far deeper value, are those in which the 
burdened soul of him who feels himself to be fast 
hastening to the confines of eternity, will some- 
times seek a human ear for the utterance of its 
anxieties and fears, and appeal to a human heart 
for counsel in its hours of need. It may be that 
the individual has never been accustomed to con- 
verse on these subjects—knows not how to begin 
—and is ashamed to condemn, as he feels that he 
must do, the whole of his past life. Who then, 
but the friend who has been near him in all his 
recent humiliations and trials, who has shared 
them both to her very utmost, and thus obtained 
his confidence,—who but his patient and untiring 
nurse, can mark and understand the struggle of 
his feelings, and lead them forth by partial antici- 
pations, so gently that he is neither pained nor 
humbled by the whole confession. 

Perchance it is at the hour of midnight, when 
fever gives him strength, and darkness hides his 
countenance, and he hears the sweet tones of that 
encouraging voice, now modulated to the expres- 
sion of a sympathy the most intense, and a love 
that many waters could not quench. There is no 
surprise in her rejoinder, when at last his lips 
have spoken what he could not utter by the light 
of day, but a few simple words, more like those 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 161 


of recognition of what she had known before, and 
of what it is the lot of many to experience; and 
then, if ever, is the golden moment when the 
power to speak without wounding, and yet to 
speak home, is indeed an inestimable gift. 

It is true that suitable and salutary words 
might be written out for some such occasion; but 
so differently constituted are human minds, that 
the same words would scarcely prove suitable and 
salutary to any two individuals, out of the count- 
._ less myriads who throng the peopled earth. 

Nor is the chamber of sickness the only situa- 
tion in which the power of conversing easily and 
appropriately is of inestimable value. ‘There are 
other cases of trial, of suffering, and of anxious 
solicitude, in which the mind would prey upon 
itself, even to the injury of the bodily frame, if 
not diverted from its object, and beguiled by plea- 
sant conversation. 

In seasons of protracted endurance, when some 
anticipated crisis, of immeasurable good or evil, 
comes not at the expected time, and every fresh 
disappointment only adds to the feverish restless- 
ness which no human constitution is strong enough 
to sustain unharmed; what amusement could be 
devised for sucha time, at all comparable to inter- 
esting and judicious conversation, gently touching 

H 2 


162 CONVERSATION OF 


upon the exciting theme, and then leading off by 
sume of those innumerable channels which 
woman’s ingenuity is so quick to discover, and so 
apt to make use of for purposes of generosity and 
kindness ? 

There are fireside scenes, too, of frequent and 
familiar occurrence, in which this feminine faculty 
may be rendered more serviceable than all other 
accomplishments—scenes that derive not their 
sadness from acute or lively suffering, but are yet 
characterized by an inexpressible kind of melan- ~ 
choly, arising from the moodiness of man, or the 
perverseness of woman, or, perhaps, from a com- 
bination of domestic disagreeables attaching to 
every member of the family, and forming over their 
better feelings a sort of incrustation, that must be 
dissolved or broken through, before anything like 
cheerfulness can shine forth. 

There is, perhaps, more real sadness arising 
from causes like this, than from the more definite 
misfortunes with which we are visited; and not 
sadness only, but a kind of resentment bordering 
on secret malignity, as if each member of the 
family had poisoned the happiness of the others; 
and looks are directed askance, books are opened, 
and their leaves are methodically folded over; and 
yet the long dull evening will not wear away. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 163 


How like a ministering angel then is the woman, 
who, looking off from her work, directs her con- 
versation to that member of the family who 
appears most accessible, and, having gained his 
attention, gives the subject such a turn as to draw 
in the attention of another, and perhaps a third, 
until all at last, without being aware of it, have 
joined in conversing on the same topic, and the 
close of the evening finds them mutually agreeable 
to each other. On such occasions it is by no 
means an insignificant attaimment to be able to 
awaken a laugh, for if two or three can be brought 
to laugh together, the incrustation is effectually 
broken, and they will be good friends without 
farther effort. 

I know it would be fruitless to lay down any 
minute and specific rules for conversation, because 
none could be acted upon safely without strict 
reference to the object upon which they might be 
brought to bear. Yet it may be said to be a rule 
almost without exception, that all persons are 
pleased to be talked to about themselves, their 
own affairs, and their own connexions, provided 
only it is done with yudgment, delicacy, and tact. 
When all other topics have been tried without 
effect, this will seldom be found to fail. Not, 
certainly, pursued upon what is described as the 


164 CONVERSATION OF 


American plan, of decided inquisitiveness, but by 
remote allusions, and frequent recurrence to what 
has already been drawn forth, making it the foun- 
dation for greater confidence, and more definite 
communication. 

That species of universal politeness, which 
prompts inquiry after the relations of the stranger 
or the guest, appears to be founded upon this 
principle, occurring, as it so frequently does, where 
there can be no possible interest on the part of 
the inquirer. 

It it not, however, for the purpose of pretending 
to that which does not really exist, that conversa- 
tion can be recommended as an art, but simply 
for facilitating the expression of feelings which 
could not be so well explained by a more direct 
assurance of their nature and existence. 

When a stranger from a distance—perhaps an 
orphan, or one who is compelled by adverse cir- 
cumstances to seek the means of pecuniary sup- 
port—comes to take up her abode in a family, no 
member of which she has ever seen before, by 
what means can the mother or the mistress of it 
make her feel that she is at home? she may tell 
her in plain words that she is disposed to make 
her comfortable, but it will touch with infinitely 
more force the heart of the stranger, if, with a 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 165 


countenance of kindly interest, she makes frequent 
and delicate mention of her friends, of her brothers 
or sisters, or other near relations, or even of the 
part of the world in which she has been accustomed 
to reside. ‘This kind of mention, frequently be- 
stowed with gentleness, and evident regard to the 
facts it elicits or the confidence it draws forth, 
will be much more effectual in gaining the desired 

end, than the warmest expressions of affectionate 
solicitude for the stranger herself. 

I know that conversation, simply studied as an 
art, without right motives for its exercise, will be 
found of little benefit, either to society, or to the 
individuals who practise it. All I would maintain 
is, that it may be made the medium of conferring 
happiness— the instrument of doing good—and 
that to a greater extent than any other accomplish- 
ment in which woman can excel. For want of 
facility in speaking appropriately, how much good 
feeling is lost to the world, buried in the bosom 
where it originates, and where it becomes a burden 
and a load, from the very consciousness of inability 
to make it understood and felt. 

How often do we hear the bitterest lamentations 
to this effect—“If I could but have told her what 
I felt—if I could but have addressed her appropri- 
ately at the time—if I had but known how to make 


166 CONVERSATION OF 


the conversation lead to the point—but now the 
time has passed, and I may never have so suitable 
an opportunity again.” 

Besides the cases already described, there are 
some darker passages in human life, when women 
are thrown upon the actual charm of their conver- 
sation, for rendering more alluring, the home that 
is not valued as it should be. Perhaps a husband 
has learned before his marriage the fatal habit of 
seeking recreation in scenes of excitement and 
convivial mirth. It is but natural that such habits 
should with difficulty be broken off, and that he 
should look with something like weariness upon 
the quiet and monotony of his own fireside. Music 
cannot always please, and books to such a man 
are a tasteless substitute for the evening party. 
He may possibly admire his wife, consider her 
extremely good-looking, and, for a woman, think 
her very pleasant ; but the sobriety of matrimony 
palls upon his vitiated taste, and he longs to feel 
himself a free man again amongst his old asso- 
clates. 

Nothing would disgust this man so much, or 
drive him away so effectually, as any assumption 
on the part of his wife, of a right to detain him. 
The next most injudicious thing she could dao, 
would be to exhibit symptoms of grief—of rea. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 167 


sorrow and distress at his leaving her; for what- 
ever may be said in novels on the subject of beauty 
in tears, seems to be rendered null and void by 
the circumstance of marriage having taken place 
between the parties. 

The rational woman, whose conversation on this 
occasion is to serve her purpose more effectually 
than tears, knows better than to speak of what 
her husband would probably consider a most 
unreasonable subject of complaint. She tries to 
recollect some incident, some trait of character, or 
some anecdote of what has lately occurred within 
her knowledge, and relates it in her most lively 
and piquant manner. If conscious of beauty, she 
tries a little raillery, and plays gently upon some of 
her husband’s not unpleasing peculiarities, looking 
all the while as disengaged and unsuspecting as 
she can. If his attention becomes fixed, she gives 
her conversation a more serious turn, and plunges 
at once into some theme of deep and absorbing 
interest. If her companion grows restless, she 
changes the subject, and again recollects some- 
thing laughable to relate tohim. Yet all the while 
her own poor heart is aching with the feverish anx- 
iety that vacillates between the extremes of hope 
and fear. She gains courage, however, as time steals 
on, for her husband is by her side, and with her 


168 CONVERSATION OF 


increasing courage her spirits become exhilarated, 
and she is indeed the happy woman she has hitherto 
but appeared; for at last her husband looks at his 
watch, is astonished to find it is too late to join his 
friends; and while the evening closes in, he won- 
ders whether any other man has a wife so delight- 
ful and entertaining as his own. 

Again, there is a class of beings, unfortunately 
for themselves, not always welcomed into good 
society, and yet severely blamed for seeking bad— 
a nondescript species of humanity, not properly 
called boys, nor worthily called men, who are, 
above all other creatures, the most difficult to con- 
verse with. They seem, in fact, to be discarded 
from society, for old women are afraid of them, 
while young ones pronounce them bores; and old 
men seem uniformly inclined to put them down, 
while young ones do little to raise them up. Yet 
in these very individuals, during this season of 
incipient manhood, the character of the future 
statesman or citizen, father or friend, is under- 
going the process of formation; and all the while 
the step that owes half its fleetness to the hope of 
leaving care and sorrow in the distance, bounds 
on with triumphant recklessness, because there is 
no friendly voice to arrest its progress, or direct 
its course. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 169 


Who takes the trouble to converse with a youth 
of this description, for we confess it is a trouble, 
except where personal affection prompts the act ? 
Is there not one who will kindly endeavour to 
make the young heart confess itself, for a heart 
there must be under all this rude and turbulent 
exterior? Yes, there is one. The reckless boy, 
after receiving a thousand insults, after having 
been elbowed off by one, pushed away by a second, 
and made game of by a third, comes home to his 
mother, and finds that his own fireside is indeed 
the happiest place on earth to him. His mother 
does what no one else will condescend to do—she 
converses with him—she treats him like a rational 
being. Interested in his amusements because 
they are his, she talks to him about his sports, his 
companions, and all the minutiz that fill up his 
daily life, anticipating all the while such feelings 
and sentiments as she believes him to possess, or 
at least gives him credit for, and thus leads him 
to confess. While the boy, feeling within himself 
the dawning of a brighter epoch in his existence, 
the stirring of half-formed thoughts about to be 
matured, is happy and grateful to be thus encou- 
raged to speak freely, and to be his better self. 

Of evenings spent in this manner, who shall 
estimate the value, remembered as they often are 


170 CONVERSATION OF 


in after life, and blended as they safely may be 
with that portion of self-respect which is always 
found to support the persevering, the upright, and 
the truly great ? 

The cases already mentioned, serve but as 
specimens of the mass of evidence that might be 
brought forward in favour of the utility of conver- 
sation judiciously carried on; what then must be 
said of the responsibility of those who possess this 
talent in its highest perfection, and either neglect 
to use it for any laudable purpose, or devote it to 
a bad one? 

It seems to be too much the opinion of people 
in general, that agreeable conversation, like many 
other agreeable things, is only to be used for the 
benefit of guests and strangers. The truly English, 
domestic, and fireside companion has a higher 
estimate of this talent. She knows little of what 
is called the world, and would be too diffident to 
attempt to make a figure in it if she did. Her 
world is her home, and here, on days of laborious 
duty, as well as on days of pleasure, when the 
family circle are met around their homely hearth, 
as well as when the distinguished guest is with 
them, it is her chief delight to beguile, what might 
otherwise be to them, heavy hours, with cheerful 
conversation. It is to her parents, her husband, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 171] 


her brothers, and her sisters, as well as to he~ 
intimate friends, that she is the entertaining ana 
instructive companion, adapting herself to their 
different moods and temperaments, leading forth 
their thoughts beyond themselves, and raising 
them above the sordid and vexatious cares of 
every-day existence, until her voice becomes the 
music of her home, and her presence the charm 
that unites the different members of her household 
in a sacred bond of fellowship and peace. 

The power of conversing well, presents a great 
temptation to a vain woman to use it for the 
gratification of her self-complacency. As there 
are few of the minor circumstances of life more 
mortifying than to find, that when you speak, no 
one listens to the end of your story or remark; 
so, there is no kind of flattery more irresistible 
than to find that your conversation gathers hearers, 
more and more; and women are but too quick 
to detect the interest they excite depicted upon 
every face. 

There is, however, a wide difference between 
the moral state of the woman who converses well 
in company, solely for the sake of obtaining admi- 
ration, and of her who converses well for the sake 
of making the time pass pleasantly or profitably 
to others. ‘The former will be sure to be found 


172 CONVERSATION OF 


amongst the gentlemen, especially if she be pleas- 
ing in her appearance, and she will have wholly 
overlooked the neglected or insignificant indivi- 
duals of her own sex, who may happen to have 
been present. The other will have sought out 
the silent stranger—the poor relation—the plain 
woman— and all the most insignificant or unnoticed 
persons in the party. Especially she will have 
devoted herself to her own sex, and afforded to 
the company that rare, but noble illustration of 
female benevolence--a fascinating woman in com- 
pany choosing to make herself agreeable to 
women. 

If any action arising from vanity could be either 
commendable or great, I am disposed to think it 
would be so, for a woman to show that she could 
afford to tear herself away from the attentions of 
men, and devote her powers of pleasing to her 
own sex. The woman we have described, how- 
ever, has feelings of a higher order. Her object 
is to use every gift she possesses for the happiness 
or the benefit of her fellow-creatures, and her 
benevolence prompts her to seek out those who 
are most in need of kindness and consideration. 
Forgetful of herself, she regards her ability to 
please as one of the talents committed to her 
trust, for the employment of which she must 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 173 


render an account at that awful tribunal where no 
selfish plea will be admitted. And thus she cul- 
tivates the art of conversation for the sake of 
increasing her usefulness, of consoling the dis- 
tressed, of instructing the ignorant, and of be- 
guiling of half their heaviness the necessary 


cares of life. 


174 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


CHAPTER VII. 


DOMESTIC HABITS,—CONSIDERATION AND KINDNESS. 


On entering upon the subject of the domestic 
habits of the women of England, I feel the neces- 
sity of bearing in mind, that all individuals in the 
middle class of society, and even all who are con- 
nected with trade, are by no means under the 
same obligation to regard their own personal exer- 
tions as a duty. So far from this, there are 
unquestionably many in this class, who would be 
entirely out of their province, were they to engage 
in the manual occupations of their families and 
households. ‘The possession of wealth has placed 
them, in these respects, on the same footing with 
the nobility, and they have, without doubt, an 
equal right to enjoy the luxuries which wealth 
can procure. Iam, however, no less convinced 
that the absence of all necessity for personal exer- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 175 


tion is a disadvantage to them, and that their 
happiness would be increased, if their situations 
in life were such as to present more imperative 
claims upon their individual services. 

The virtue of considerateness refers strictly to 
the characters and circumstances of those around 
us. From the mistress of half a dozen servants, 
therefore, the same find of consideration can 
never be required, as from the mistress of one; 
nor can the lady of a mansion, even though her 
husband should be engaged in trade, feel herself 
called to the same duties as the farmer’s wife. 

The considerateness | shall attempt to define is 
one of the highest recommendations the female 
character can possess; because it combines an 
habitual examination of our own situation and 
responsibilities, with a quick discernment of the 
character and feelings of those around us, and a 
benevolent desire to afford them as much plea- 
sure, and spare them as much pain, as we can. 
A considerate woman, therefore, whether sur- 
rounded by all appliances and means of personal 
enjoyment, or depending upon the use of her 
own hands for the daily comforts of life, will look 
around her, and consider what is due to those 
whom Providence has placed within the sphere of 
her influence. 


176 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


The man who voluntarily undertakes a difficult 
and responsible business, first inquires how it is 
to be conducted so as best to ensure success; so, 
the serious and thoughtful woman, on entering 
upon the duties of domestic life, ascertains, by 
reflection and observation, in what manner they 
may be performed so as to render them most con- 
ducive to the great end she has in view—the pro- 
motion of the happiness of others; and as the 
man engaged in business does not run hither and 
thither, simply to make a show of alacrity, neither 
does the woman engaged in a higher and more 
important work, allow herself to be satisfied with 
her own willingness to do her duty, without a 
diligent and persevering investigation of what 
are the most effectual means by which it can be 
done. 

Women are almost universally admonished of 
their duties in general terms, and hence they labour 
under great disadvantages. ‘They are told to be 
virtuous; and in order to be so, they are advised 
to be kind and modest, orderly and discreet. But 
few teachers, and fewer writers, condescend to - 
take up the minutiz of every-day existence, so 
far as to explain in what distinct and individual 
actions such kindness, modesty, order, and dis- 
cretion consist. Indeed, the cases themselves, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 177 


upon which these principles of right conduct are 
generally brought to bear, are so minute, and so 
apparently insignificant, that the writer who takes 
up this subject must not only be content to sacri- 
fice all the dignity of authorship, but must submit 
occasionally to a smile of contempt for having 
filled a book with trifles. 

In order, however, to ascertain the real import- 
ance of any point of merit, we should take into 
consideration its direct opposite. We never know 
the value of true kindness, so much as when con- 
trasted with unkindness; and lest any one should 
think lightly of the virtue of consideration as a 
moral faculty, let us turn our attention to the 
character and habits of a woman who is without 
it. Such are not difficult to find, and we find 
them.often in the lovely, and the seemingly ami- 
able creatures of impulse, who rush about, with 
the impetus of the moment operating as their 
plea, uncontrollable affection their excuse, and 
selfishness, unknown to them, the moving spring 
at the bottom of their hearts. ‘These individuals 
believe themselves to be so entirely governed by 
amiable feelings, that they not unfrequently boast 
of being kind—nay, too kind-hearted: but upon 
whom does their kindness tell, except upon them- 
selves? It is true, they feel the impulse to be 

1 


172 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


kind, and this impulse they gratify by allowing it 
to operate in any way that circumstances, or their 
own caprice, may point out. Yet, after all, how 
often is their kindness, for want of consideration, 
rendered wholly unavailable towards the promo- 
tion of any laudable or useful purpose. 

Nor is this all. Want of consideration is often 
the occasion of absolute pain; and those, who 
because they deem it a recommendation to act 
from the impulse of the moment, will not take 
the trouble to reflect, are always, in a greater or 
less degree, liable to inflict misery upon others. 

I remember walking home on a beautiful sum- 
mer’s evening, with one of these lovely and impe- 
tuous creatures, who was then just entering upon 
all the rights and privileges of a belle, and, to my 
great surprise, observing that she trod indiscrimi- 
nately upon all the creeping things which the 
damp and the dew had tempted forth into our 
path. I remonstrated with her, of course; but 
she turned to me with her own bewitching air of 
naiveté, and said—‘“ And pray, why may I not 
tread upon the snails?” Farther remonstrance — 
was unnecessary, for the mind which had attained 
maturity without feeling enough to prevent this 
reckless and disgusting waste of life, must of ne- 
cessity have been impervious to reason. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 179 


And thus it is with considerateness in general. 
If the season of youth glides over before habits of 
consideration are acquired, they will come tardily, 
and with little grace, in after life. Want of con- 
sideration for those of our fellow-creatures whose 
love is of importance to us, is not, however, a 
subject upon which we have so much cause for 
complaint. It is towards those with whom we are 
connected by social ties, without affection—and 
under this head, the situation of our servants and 
domestics claims the greatest care. 

Servants are generally looked upon, by thought- 
less young ladies, as a sort of household machi- 
nery; and when that machinery is of sufficient 
extent to operate upon every branch of the estab- 
lishment, there can be no reason why it should 
not be brought into exercise, and kept in motion 
to any extent that may not be injurious. This 
machinery, however, is composed of individuals 
possessing hearts as susceptible of certain kinds 
of feeling, as those of the more privileged beings, 
to whose comfort and convenience it is their 
daily business to minister. They know and 
feel that their lot in this world is comparatively 
hard; and if they are happily free from all pre- 
sumptuous questionings of the wisdom and justice 
of Providence in placing them where they are, 


180 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


they are alive to the conviction that the burden of 
each day is sufficient, and often more than suf- 
ficient, for their strength. 

In speaking of the obligation we are under to 
our domestics for their faithful services, it is no 
uncommon thing to be answered by this unmean- 
ing remark; “ They are well paid for what they 
do,” as if the bare fact of receiving food and 
clothing for their daily labour, placed them on 
the same footing with regard to comfort, as those 
who receive their food and clothing for doing 
nothing. 

There is also another point of view in which 
this class of our fellow-creatures is very unfairly 
judged. Servants are required to have no faults. 
It is by no means uncommon to find the mistress 
of a family, who has enjoyed all the advantages of 
moral and even religious education, allowing her- 
self to exhibit the most unqualified excess of 
indignation at the petty faults of a servant, who 
has never enjoyed either; and to hear her speak 
as if she was injured, imposed upon, insulted 
before her family, because the servant, who was 
engaged to work for her, had been betrayed into 
impertinence by a system of reproof as much at 
variance with christian meekness, as the retort it 
was so well calculated to provoke. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 181 


Women of such habits, would perhaps be a 
little surprised, if told, that when a lady descends 
from her own proper station, to speak in an irri- 
tating or injurious manner to a servant, she is 
herself guilty of impertinence, and that no do- 
mestic of honest and upright spirit will feel that 
such treatment ought to be submitted to. 

On the other hand, there is a degree of kind- 
ness blended with dignity, which servants, who 
are not absolutely depraved, are able to appre- 
ciate; and the slight effort required to obtain 
their confidence, is almost invariably repaid by a 
double share of affectionate and faithful service. 

The situation of living unloved by their do- 
mestics is one which I should hope there are few 
women capable of enduring with indifference. 
The cold attentions rendered without affection, 
and curtailed by every allowable means, the short 
unqualified reply to every question, the averted 
look, the privilege stolen rather than solicited, 
the secret murmur that is able to make itself 
understood without the use of words—all these 
are parts of a system of behaviour that chills the 
very soul, and forces upon the mind the unwel- 
come conviction, that a stranger who partakes not 
in our common lot, is within our domestic circle: 
or that an alien who enters not into the sphere of 


SO I 2 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


our home-associations, attends upon our social 
board; nay, so forcible is the impression, as 
almost to extend tu a feeling, that an enemy is 
amongst the members of our own household. 

How different is the impression produced by a 
manner calculated both to win their confidence and 
inspire their respect. The kind welcome after 
absence, the watchful eye, the anticipation of 
every wish, the thousand little attentions and acts 
of service beyond what are noted in the bond— 
who can resist the influence of these upon the 
heart, and not desire to pay them back—not cer- 
tainly in their own kind and measure, but in the 
only way they can be returned consistently with 
the relative duties of both parties—in kindness 
and consideration ? 

It is not, however, in seasons of health and 
prosperity, that this bond between the different 
members of a family can be felt in its full force. 
‘There is no woman so happily circumstanced, but 
that she finds some link broken in the chain 
which binds her to this world—some shadow cast 
upon her earthly pictures. The best beloved 
are not always those who love the best; and 
expectation will exceed reality, even in the most 
favoured lot. ‘There are hours of sadness that 
will steal in, even upon the sunny prime of life; 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 183 


and they are not felt the less, because it is some- 
times impossible to communicate the reason for 
such sadness to those who are themselves the 
cause. In such cases, and while the heart is in 
some degree estranged from natural and familiar 
fellowship, we are thrown more especially upon 
the kindness and affection of our domestics, for 
the consolation we feel it impossible to live with- 
out. ‘hey may be, and they ought to be, wholly 
unacquainted with the cause of ovr disquietude ; 
but a faithfully attached servant, without pre- 
suming beyond her proper sphere, is quick to 
discern the tearful eye, the gloomy brow, the 
countenance depressed; and it is at such times 
that their kindness, solicitude, and delicate atten- 
tions, might often put to shame the higher pre- 
tensions of superior refinement. 

In cases of illness or death, it is perhaps more 
especially their merit to prove, by their indefati- 
gable and unrequited assiduities, how much they 
make the interest of the family their own, and how 
great is their anxiety to remove all lighter causes 
of annoyance from interference with the great 
affliction in which those around them are involved. 
There’is scarcely a more pitiable object in crea- 
tion, than a helpless invalid left entirely to the 
care of domestics, whose affection never has been 


184 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


sought or won. But, on the other hand, the rea- 
diness with which they will sometimes sacrifice 
their needful rest, and that, night after night, to 
watch the feverish slumbers of a fretful invalid, is 
one of those redeeming features in the aspect of 
human nature, which it is impossible to regard 
without feelings of admiration and gratitude. 

The question necessarily follows,—how are our 
domestics to be won over to this confidence and 
affection? it comes not by nature, for no tie, 
except what necessarily implies authority and 
subjection, exists between us. It cannot come by 
mutual acts of service, because the relation 
between us is of such a nature as to place the 
services almost entirely on their side, the benefits 
derived from such services, on ours. It comes, 
then, by instances of consideration, showing that 
we have their interests at heart in the same 
degree that we expect them to have ours. We 
cannot actually do much for them, because it 
would be out of our province, and a means of 
removing them out of theirs; but we can think 
and feel for them, and thus lighten or add weight 
to their burdens, by the manner in which our most 
trifling and familiar actions are performed. 

In a foregoing chapter, I have ventured a few 
hints on the subject of manners, chiefly as regards 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 185 


their influence amongst those who meet us upon 
equal terms in the social affairs of life. The 
influence of the manner we choose to adopt in 
our intercourse with servants, is of such import- 
ance as to deserve further notice than the nature 
of this work will allow. 

There is a phenomenon sometimes witnessed 
at the head of a well-appointed table, from which 
many besides myself, have no doubt started with 
astonishment and disgust. A well-dressed, well- 
educated lady, attired in the most becoming and 
fashionable costume, is engaged in conversing with 
her friends, pressing them to partake of her well- 
flavoured viands, and looking and speaking with 
the blandest smiles; when suddenly one of the 
servants is beckoned towards her, and with an 
instantaneous expression of countenance, in which 
is concealed the passion and the imperiousness 
of a whole lifetime, he is admonished of his duty 
in. sharp whispers that seem to hiss like lightning 
in his ears. ‘The lady then turns round to her 
guests, is again arrayed in smiles, and prepared 
again to talk sweetly of the sympathies and amia- 
bilities of our common nature. 

There is, it must be confessed, a most objec- 
tionable manner, which blends familiarity with con- 
fidence; and this ought to be guarded against as 

| 12 


186 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


much in reproof, as in commendation, for it cannot 
be expected that a mistress who reproves her ser- 
vant with coarseness and vulgarity, will be treated 
with much delicacy in return. ‘The consideration 
I would recommend, so far from inviting fami- 
liarity, is necessarily connected with true dignity, 
because it implies, in the most undeviating man- 
ner, a strict regard to the relative position of both 
parties. Let us see then in what it consists, or 
rather let us place it in a stronger light by point- 
ing out instances in which the absence of it is 
most generally felt. 

There are many young ladies, and some old 
ones, with whom the patronage of pets appears to 
be an essential part of happiness; and these pets, 
as various as the tastes they gratify, are all alike 
in one particular—they are all troublesome. If 
a lady engages her servants with an understand- 
ing that they are to wait upon her domestic 
animals, no one can accuse her of injustice. But 
if, with barely a sufficient number of domestics to 
perform the necessary labour of her household, she 
establishes a menagerie, and expects the hard- 
working servants to undertake the additional duty 
of waiting upon her pets—perhaps the most re- 
pulsive creatures in existence, to them—such 
additional service ought at least to be solicited as 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 187 


a favour; and she will have no right to feel indig- 
nant, should the favour be sometimes granted in 
a manner neither gracious nor conciliating. 

When a servant who has been all day labouring 
hard to give an aspect of comfort and cleanliness 
to the particular department committed to her 
care, sees the young ladies of the family come 
home from their daily walk, and, never dreaming 
of her, or her hard labour, trample over the hall 
and stairs without stopping to rid themselves of 
that incumbrance of clay, which a fanciful writer 
has classed amongst the “ miseries of human life ;? 
is it to be expected that the servant who sees this, 
should be so far uninfluenced by the passions of 
humanity, as not to feel the stirrings of rage and 
resentment in her bosom? And when this par- 
ticular act is repeated every day, and followed up 
by others of the same description, the frequently 
recurring sensations of rage and resentment, so 
naturally excited, will strengthen into those of 
habitual dislike, and produce that cold service, 
and grudging kindness, which have already been 
described. 

There are thousands of little acts of this descrip- 
tion, such as ordering the tired servants to rise 
at an unseasonable hour to prepare an early ~ 
breakfast, and then not being ready yourself before 


188 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


the usual time—being habitually too late for din- 
ner, without any sufficient reason, and having a 
second dinner served up—ringing the bell for the 
servant to leave her washing, cooking, or cleaning, 
and come up to you, to receive orders to fetch 
your thimble or scissors from the highest apart- 
ment in the house—all which need no comment ; 
and surely those servants must be more than 
human, who can experience the effects of such a 
system of behaviour, carried on for days, months, 
and years, and not feel, and feel bitterly, that they 
are themselves regarded as mere machines, while 
their comfort and convenience is as much left out 
of calculation, as if they were nothing more. 

It is an easy thing, on entering a family, to 
ascertain whether the female members of it are, 
or are not considerate. Where they are not, there 
exists, as a necessary consequence, a constant 
series of murmurings, pleadings, remonstrances, 
and attempted justifications, which sadly mar the 
happiness of the household. On the other hand, 
where the female members of a family are con- 
siderate, there is a secret spring of sympathy 
linking all hearts together, as if they were moved 
by a simultaneous impulse of kindness on one 
side, and gratitude on the other. Few words have 
need to be spoken, few professions to be made, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 189 


for each is hourly discovering that they have been 
the subject of affectionate solicitude, and they are 
consequently on the watch for every opportunity 
of making an adequate return. If the brother 
comes home sad or weary, the sister to whom he 
has pledged himself to some exertion, detects the 
languor of his eye, and refrains from pressing upon 
him a fulfilment of his promise; if the sister is 
labouring under depression, the brother feels him- 
self especially called upon to stand forward as her 
friend; and if one of the family be suffering even 
slightly from indisposition, there are watchful eyes 
around, and the excursion is cheerfully given up 
by one, the party by another, and a quiet social 
evening is unanimously agreed upon to be spent 
at home, and agreed upon in such a way as that 
the invalid shall never suspect it has been done at 
the cost of any pleasure. 

There is no proof of affection more kindly 
prompted and more gratefully received, than that 
of easily detecting uncomplained-of indisposition. 
We might almost single out this faculty as the 
surest test of love—for who observes the incipient 
wrinkle on a stranger’s brow, or marks the gra- 
dually-increasing paleness of an unloved cheek ? 
Or what can convince us more effectually that we 
are in a world of strangers, to whom our interests 


190 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


are as nothing, than to be pressed on every hand 
to do, what our bodily strength is unequal to. 
There are points of consideration in which we 
often practise great self-deception. ‘Don’t you 
think it would do you good, my dear?” asks the 
young lady of her sickly sister, when the day of 
promised pleasure is at hand, and she begins to 
fear her sister’s cough will render it impossible to 
go from home. ‘The pain in your foot, my love, 
is considerably better,” says the wife to her hus- 
band, when she thinks the fashionables are about 
leaving Bath. ‘*You are looking extremely well,” 
says the niece to her aged uncle, who has promised 
to take her to Paris; “I think I never saw you 
look so well.” But all this is not love. It dces not 
feel like love to the parties addressed; for nature 
is true to herself, and she will betray the secrets 
of art. How different are the workings of that 
deep and earnest affection that sees with one 
glance how unreasonable it would be to drag forth 
the invalid to any participation in the enjoyments 
of health; and how welcome is the gentle whisper 
which assures us that one watchful eye perceives 
our suffering, one sympathizing ear participates 
in our weakness and distress: for it is distress to 
be compelled to complain that we are unequal to 
do, what the happiness of others depends upon 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 191 


our doing; and never is the voice of friendship 
employed in amore kindly office, than when plead- 
ing the cause of our infirmity. 

It is chiefly with regard to the two sister virtues 
of consideration and kindness, that I look upon 
the women of England as so highly privileged; 
because the nature of their social and domestic 
circumstances is such, as to afford them constantly- 
recurring opportunities of proving that they think 
often and kindly of others, without any departure 
from the wonted routine of their conduct, that 
might wear the character of a pointed application 
of such feelings. 

It has a startling, and by no means agreeable 
effect upon the mind, when a woman who is not 
habitually accustomed to any sort of practical 
kindness, so far deviates from her usual line of 
conduct, as to perform any personal service solely 
for ourselves. We feel that she has been troubled, 
and suspect that she has been annoyed. But 
women accustomed to practical duties are able to 
turn the whole tide of their affectionate solicitude 
into channels so wholesome and salutary, that our 
pride is not wounded by the obligation under 
which we are placed, nor is our sense of gratitude 
impaired by the pain of being singled out as the 
object of unwonted and elaborate attentions. 


192 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


In order to illustrate the subject by a familiar 
instance, let us imagine one of those events expe- 
rienced by all who lived to years of maturity, 
and experienced in such a way as to have thrown 
them in a peculiar manner, upon the domestic 
comforts of the circle to which they were intro- 
duced—the arrival, after long travel, on a visit to 
an early and highly-valued friend. 

It is not necessary to this picture, that park 
gates should be thrown open, and footmen stationed 
on the steps of the hall; it will better serve our 
purpose, that the mistress of the house should 
herself be the first to meet her guest, with that 
genuine welcome in her looks and manner, that 
leaves nothing to be expressed by words. We will 
suppose that with her own hand she displaces all 
the encumbrance of extra wrappings, rendered 
necessary by the winter’s journey, and having 
quietly dismissed the expectant chaise-driver or 
porter, she leads her friend into the neatly fur- 
nished parlour, where another and a more familiar 
welcome seems at once to throw open her heart 
and her house for her reception. A fire that has 
been designedly built up, is then most energeti- 
cally stirred, until a bright and genial blaze dif- 
fuses its light round the room, and the guest 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 193 


begins to giow with the two-fold warmth of a 
welcome and a winter’s fire. 

In the mean time, the servant, well taught in 
the mysteries of hospitality, conveys the luggage 
upstairs unseen, and the guest is led to the cham- 
ber appointed for her nightly rest. ‘There most 
especially, is both seen and felt, the kind feeling 
that has taken into account her peculiar tastes, 
and anticipated all her well-remembered wishes. 
The east or the west apartment has been chosen, 
according to the preference she has been known 
to express in days long since gone by, when she 
and her friend were girls together; and thus the 
chain of fond and cherished recollections is made 
to appear again unbroken after the lapse of years, 
and a conviction is silently impressed upon the 
mind of the traveller—perhaps the most welcome 
of all earthly sources of assurance—that we have 
been remembered, not merely in the abstract— 
but that through long, long years of change and 
separation, time has not obliterated from the 
mind of a dear friend, the slightest trace of our 
individuality. 

Perhaps none can tell until they have arrived at 
middle age, what is in reality the essential sweet- 
ness of this conviction. In our association with 
the world, we may have obtained for our industry, 


194 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


our usefulness, or it may be for our talents, a 
measure of approval, at least commensurate with 
our deserts; but give back to the worn and the 
weary in this world’s warfare, the friends of their 
early youth—the friends who loved them, faults 
and all—the friends who could note down their 
very follies without contempt, and who attached 
a degree of interest and importance to the 
trifling peculiarities of their temper and feelings, 
which rendered them indelible memorials of an 
attachment such as never can be formed in afier 
life. 

To return from this digression—'The English 
woman, in the unsophisticated beauty of her cha- 
racter, has a power far surpassing what can be 
attained by the most scrupulous observance of the 
rules of art, of thus investing her familiar and 
social actions with a charm that goes directly to 
the heart. 

We have traced the traveller to the chamber of 
her rest, and it is not in the choice of this room 
alone, but in its furniture and general aspect, that 
she reads the cheering truth of a superintending 
care having been exercised over all it contains, in 
strict reference to herself, not merely as an 
honoured guest, but as a lover of this or that small 
article of comfort or convenience, which in the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 195 


world of comparative strangers amongst whom she 
has been living, she has seldom thought it worth 
her while to stipulate for, and still less frequently 
has had referred to her choice. 

Now, it is evident that the mistress of the house 
herself must have been here. With her own hand 
she must have placed upon the table the favourite 
toilet-cushion, worked by a friend who was alike 
dear to herself and her guest. With her own hand 
she must have selected the snow-white linen, and 
laid out, not in conspicuous obtrusiveness, a few 
volumes calculated for the hours of silent medita- 
tion, when her friend shall be alone. 

It is impossible that the services of the most 
faithful domestic should be able to convey half the 
heartfelt meaning indicated by these few familiar 
acts, so richly worth their cost. It is not from the 
circumstance of having all our wants supplied, that 
the most lively satisfaction is derived; it is from 
the cheering fact that we ourselves, in our indivi- 
dual capacity, have been the object of so much 
faithful recollection, and untiring love. 

Instead therefore of regarding it as a subject for 
murmuring and complaint, that her means of per- 
sonal indulgence do not supply her with a greater 
number of domestics, the true English woman 
ought rather to esteem it a privilege that her 


196 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


station in life is such, as to place her in the way 
of imparting this rational and refined enjoyment. 

We cannot imagine the first day of hospitable 
welcome complete without our visiter being intro- 
duced to that concatenation of comforts—an early 
tea. On descending from her chamber, then, she 
finds all things in readiness for this grateful and 
refreshing meal. Her attention is not distracted 
by apologies for what is not there—but what, on 
such occasions, frequently might have been, at the 
cost of half the effort required for an elaborate 
excuse. As if the fairy order had been at work, 
the table is spread with all things most agreeable 
after weary travel; and the guest, instead of being 
pressed to eat with such assiduity that she begins 
to think her visit has -no other object, is only 
interrupted by kind inquiries relating to home 
associations, and is beguiled into a prolongation 
of her meal, by being drawn out into a detail of 
the events of her journey. 

As the evening passes on, their conversation 
becomes more intimate, and while it deepens in 
interest, that full expansion of the soul takes place, 
under which, whatever English women may be in 
the superficial intercourse of polished life, I have 
no scruple in saying, that as fireside companions, 
they are the most delightful upon earth. ‘There 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 197 


are such vivid imaginings, such touches of native 
humour, such deep well-springs of feeling, beyond 
their placid exterior, that when they dare to come 
forth, and throw themselves upon the charity or 
affection of their hearers, one is beguiled into a 
fascination the more intense, because it combines 
originality of thought with gentle manners, and in 
a peculiar and forcible way invests the cherished 
recollections of the past, with the fresh warm 
colouring of the present hour. 

It is not amidst congregated masses of society, 
that the true English woman can exhibit her native 
powers of conversation. It is when two are met 
together, with perhaps a husband or a brother for a 
third, and the midnight hour steals on, and yet they 
take no note of time, for they are opening out their 
separate store of treasures from the deep of me- 
mory, sharing them with each other, and blending 
all with such bright anticipations of the future, as 
none but a woman’s imagination can enjoy, with 
faith in their reality. 

Or, perhaps, they are consulting upon some 
difficult point of duty, or sympathizing with each 
other in affliction; and then, where shall we look 
but to the English woman for the patient listener, 
the faithful counsellor, the staunch supporter of 
each virtuous purpose, the keen discerner in points 


198 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


of doubtful merit, and the untiring comforter in 
every hour of need. 

It would be too tedious, and might to some 
appear too trifling, were I to trace out the conduct 
of the being here described, through more of the 
familiar scenes presented by domestic life. It may 
also be thought by some who know little of women 
in this capacity, that I am drawing merely from 
imagination : others will know that my colouring 
is true—that human life, in some of its obscurest 
passages, has secrets of moral excellence in the 
female character, presenting objects as lovely as 
ever were revealed to the poet’s fancy. Alas! for 
those whose memory alone supplies them with 
the materials for this picture—who now can only 
feel that “such things were !” 

The charge of trifling is one I should be sorry 
to incur in writing on a subject so serious as the 
domestic morals of women; yet how to enter into 
a detail sufficiently minute without, I confess I do 
not clearly see. I must, therefore, again pause, 
and ask the reader, in my own defence, of what 
the ordinary life of a woman of the middle class 
of society is composed but a mass of trifles, out 
of which arises the happiness or the misery of a | 
numerous and important portion of the human 
race? I would also ask, What is a woman who 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 199 


despises trifles? She may possibly enjoy, with 
undisputed dignity, a niche in the temple of fame, 
but she ought never to descend from her marble 
pedestal, to mingle with the social circle around the 
living blaze of the domestic hearth. Those quiet, 
unobtrusive virtues, which are ever the most lovely 
in the female character, must necessarily be the 
most difficult to define. ‘They are so much more 
felt than seen—so much better understood than 
described—that to give them a name would be 
impossible, and even to portray them in an ideal 
picture might not perhaps convey to the mind of 
the beholder, any adequate idea of their import- 
ance. But, as in painting a finished picture, the 
skill of the artist is not only required in the general 
outline, but is equally requisite in the filling-w), 
so the perfection of the female character, is not 
sufficiently indicated by saying she is possessed 
of every virtue, unless we point out the individual 
instances upon which those virtues are brought to 
bear; and the more minute and delicate their 
aspect, if they are but frequently presented to our 
notice, the stronger is our conviction that virtuous 
principle is the ground-work of the whole. 

With regard to the particular instance already 
described, the case may perhaps be more clearly 
illustrated by adding a picture of an opposite 


200 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


description, in order to ascertain in what particular 
points the two cases differ. 

_ For this purpose, we will imagine a woman dis- 
tinguished by no extreme of character, receiving 
her guest under precisely the same circumstances 
as the one already described. In this case, the 
visiter is permitted to see that her hostess has 
reluctantly laid down her book at the latest pos- 
sible period of time which politeness would allow; 
or, after her guest has remained twenty minutes in 
a vacant, and by no means inviting parlour, she 
comes toiling up from the kitchen, with a counte- 
nance that makes it dreadful to be adding to her 
daily fatigues by placing one’s self at her table; and 
she answers the usual inquiries of her friend, as 
to her state of health, with a minute detail of the 
various phenomena of a headach with which she 
has that morning been attacked. ‘The ove domestic 
is then called up—and wo betide that family, 
whose daily services, wnpractised by its individual 
members towards each other, all emanate from one 
domestic. 

The one domestic then is ordered, in the hearing 
of the guest, to take all the luggage up stairs, to 
bring hot water, towels, soap—to turn the carpets 
—run for the best looking-glass—and see that tea 
is ready by the time the friend comes down. The 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 201 


party then ascend, accompanied by the panting 
servant, into a room, upon which no kind care has 
been bestowed. It may possibly be neat—so neat 
that the guest supposes it never has been, and is 
not yet intended to be, used. Yes, every thing is 
in its place; but a general blank pervades the 
whole, and it is not the least of the disappoint- 
ments experienced by our guest, that she finds no 
water to refresh her aching temples. The mistress 
of the house is angry at this neglect, and rings the 
bell. The servant ascends from the kitchen to 
the highest room, to learn that she must go down 
again, and return, before half the catalogue of her 
faults has been told. 

On such errands as this, she is employed until 
the party descend to the parlour, where the bell is 
again rung more imperatively, and tea is ordered 
to be brought instanter. In the mean time, the 
fire has dwindled to the lowest bar. The mistress 
looks for coals, but the usual receptacle is empty. 
She feels as if there were a conspiracy against her. 
There is—there can be no one to blame but the 
servant; and thus her chagrin is alleviated by com- 
plaints against servants in general, and her own 
in particular. With these complaints, and often- 
repeated apologies, the time is occupied until the 
appearance of the long-expected meal, when the 

K 


202 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


~ guest is pressed to partake of a repast not sweet- 
ened by the comments of her hostess, or the 
harassed and forlorn appearance of an over- 
worked domestic. 

The mistress of this house may all the while be 
glad to see her guest, and may really regard her 
as an intimate and valued friend; but never having 
made it an object to practise the domestic virtue 
of making others happy, she knows not how to 
convey any better idea of a welcome than by 
words. She therefore sets deliberately to work 
to describe how happy she esteems herself in 
receiving so dear a friend—wishes some third party 
were at home—hopes to be able to amuse her— 
tells of the parties she has engaged for each suc- 
cessive evening—brings out a pile of engravings 
—fears her guest is weary—and lastly, at a very 
early hour, rings for the chamber-candlesticks, 
presuming that her visiter would like to retire. 

It is needless to observe that the generality of 
visiters do retire upon this hint; and it is equally 
needless to add, that the individual here described 
fails to exhibit the character of the true English 
woman, whose peculiar charm is that of diffusing 
happiness, without appearing conspicuously as the 
agent in its diffusion. It is from the unseen, but 
active principle of disinterested love, ever working 


THE WOMEN OP ENGLAND. 203 


at her heart, that she enters, with a perception as 
delicate as might be supposed to belong to a min- 
istering angel, mto the peculiar feelings and tones 
of character influencing those around her, apply- 
ing the magical key of sympathy to all they suffer 
or enjoy, to all they fear or hope, until she be- 
comes identified as it were with their very being, 
blends her own existence with theirs, and makes 
her society essential to their highest earthly 
enjoyment. 

If a heightened degree of earthly enjoyment were 
all we could expect to obtain by this line o1 con- 
duct, I should still be disposed to think the effect 
produced would be richly worth our pains. But 
I must again repeat, that the great aim of a 
christian woman will always be, so to make others 
happy, that their feelings shall be attuned to the 
reception of better thoughts than those which 
relate to mere personal enjoyment—so to make 
others happy, as to win them over toa full percep- 
tion of the loveliness of those christian virtues 
which her own life and conduct consistently show 
forth. 


204 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


CHAPTER VIII. 


DOMESTIC HABITS—CONSIDERATION AND KINDNESS. 


Tue subject of consideration might be continued 
to almost any extent, since it seems either to 
comprehend, or to be closely connected with, all 
that is morally excellent in woman. We shall, 
however, confine our attention to only a few more 
of those important branches in which this fertile 
theme demands our serious thought—towards those 
who are beneath us in pecuniary circumstances, 
and towards those with whom we are associated in 
the nearest domestic relations. 

The young and inexperienced having never 
themselves tasted the cup of adversity, are, in a 
great measure, excusable for not knowing how to 
treat the morbid and susceptible feelings, which 
the fact of having drank deeply of that cup often 
produces; nor is it easy to communicate to their 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 205 


minds any idea of the extreme of suffering to which 
this tone of feeling may extend. Much may be 
done, however, by cultivating habits of consider- 
ation, by endeavouring sometimes to identify 
themselves with those who suffer, by asking how 
it would be with them if their parents had fallen 
below what, by the world, is called respectability 
—if they were obliged to seek the means of main- 
taining themselves—if they were admitted into 
families by sufierance, and only on condition that 
they should remain until another home could be 
found, in which their own hands might minister 
to their necessities. 

There is no class of beings whose circumstances 
altogether are more calculated to call forth our 
' tenderest sympathies, than those delicate females 
whose fireside comforts are broken up by the 
adverse turn of their pecuniary affairs, and who 
are consequently sent forth to share the lot of 
families unknown to them, and to throw themselves 
upon the kindness and consideration of strangers. 
It is in cases of this kind, especially, that we see 
the importance of having cultivated the moral 
faculties, of having instilled into the mind those 
sound principles of integrity, usefulness, and moral 
responsibility, which, in proportion as they become 
the foundation of our familiar and daily conduct, 


206 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


necessarily invest every act of duty with a cheer- 
fulness which cannot fail to be acceptable in the 
sight of that merciful Creator, who alone is capable 
of transforming what is irksome or repulsive to 
the natural feelings, into sources of gratitude and 
delight. 

The frequent occurrence of such changes in the 
pecuniary affairs of English families, as render it 
necessary for the female members to be thus cir- 
cumstanced, is, therefore, one amongst the many 
reasons, why the effects of that false refinement 
which is gradually increasing amongst the female 
part of English society, should be counteracted by 
the strenuous efforts of the well-wishers of their 
country; and high time it is, that all our energies 
should be roused, not by any means to retard the 
progress of intellect, but to force along with it the 
growth of sound principles, and the increase of 
moral power. 

Persons who are reduced in their peeuniary 
circumstances are generally judged of as we judge 
our servants, and those who are born to humble 
means; they are required to have no faults, and 
the public cry is especially directed against them, 
if they evince the least symptom of pride. Indeed, 
so great is our abhorrence of this particular fault, 
that we often make eyen a slight evidence of its 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 207 


existence a plea for the discontinuance of our 
bounty and our favour. We forget that the pride 
of the individuals in question has perhaps been 
ministered to throughout the whole of their former 
lives, and that they, no more than we, can re- 
nounce their soul-besetting sins, as they give up 
the luxuries they are no longer able to procure. 
We forget, also, that their circumstances are cal- 
culated, in an especial manner, to rouse the lurking 
evil, even had it never been conspicuous in their 
characters before. 

The man who floats safely upon the stream of 
worldly prosperity, with his early companions a 
little lower than himself, can afford to be gracious 
and conciliating; but when he begins to sink, and 
feels the same companions struggling to float past 
him, and finally leaving him to contend with his 
difficulties, his feelings towards them undergo a 
total change: he accounts himself an injured man, 
and becomes a prey to envy, disappointment, and 
wounded pride. ‘The world’s contumely, more 
grievous than his actual privations, assails his 
peace of mind; he learns to look for unkindness, 
and to expect it even where it does not exist. In 
the stranger’s eye he reads contempt and neglect; 
he lives, as it were, surrounded by daggers— 
bleeding at every pore, and wounded by every 


208 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


thing with which he comes in contact. “How 
absurd !” is the exclamation we hear from the 
prosperous and inconsiderate—“ how worse than 
absurd for a man to be feeling in this manner, be- 
cause he has lost a few hundreds!” And yet men 
do feel to such a degree, that nothing but religion 
can enable them to bear such vicissitudes with 
calmness and resignation. And even when sup- 
ported by religion, it has pleased our heavenly 
Father to accompany these dispensations of his 
providence, with a degree of suffering to which no 
human mind is insensible. 

It is generally regarded as the extreme of bene- 
volence, if, in our intercourse with such persons, 
we treat them exactly as we did in more prosper- 
ous days; and few there are who can at all times 
withhold expressions equivalent to these: “ How 
unreasonable it is to expect so much attention 
now! It is not likely we can ask that family to 
meet ov friends; we should be willing still to 
notice them in a private way, if they would but 
be more grateful—more considerate.” And thus 
they are allowed to pass away from our social 
gatherings, to be called upon perhaps occasionally 
at their own humble abodes, but by no means to 
be invited in return, lest some of our wealthier 
friends should detect us in the act of performing 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 209 


the offices of hospitality to a person in a thread- 
bare coat. And yet this family may have done 
nothing worse than thousands are doing every 
day—than even our richest and dearest friends 
are doing—and we may know it all the while. 

It sickens the heart to think of these things, 
and to reflect how far—how very far, even the 
good and the kind fall short of that beautiful and 
heart-touching injunction of our blessed Saviour, 
“When thou makest a feast, call the poor, the 
maimed, the lame, the blind.” 

The wealthy and distinguished man, with whom 
we have but a slight acquaintance, sends his son 
into our neighbourhood on business or pleasure. 
We hear of his coming, and persuade ourselves 
it is but respectful to invite him to be our guest. 
It is at the expense of our domestic comfort that 
we entertain him—but that is nothing. Difficul- 
ties appear on every hand, to vanish as soon as 
they appear; we even persuade ourselves that a 
sort of merit attaches to our doing all in our 
power to accommodate the son of so distinguished 
a person. 

The poor widow, perhaps our relative, sends 
her son to town to seek a situation, and we hear 
of his coming. We knew his mother in more 
prosperous days. She was a worthy woman then, 

Kk 2 


210 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


but her husband died insolvent, and tne family 
necessarily fell away from what they had been. 
It cannot be at all incumbent upon us to ask 
such young men as these to our houses. They 
might come in shoals. Our domestic comfort 
would be sacrificed, and it is the duty of every 
one to maintain the peace and order of their own 
household. 

Thus the widow’s son is allowed to wander up 
and down the streets, to resort to expensive lodg- 
ing-houses, and to purchase, with the pittance 
provided by his mother from her slender means, 
that accommodation which a little christian hospi- 
tality might have spared him. 

We complain that our streets are thronged on 
the Sabbath-day with troops of idle young men 
and women, who afford a painful spectacle to 
those who pass them on their way to public wor- 
ship. How many of these—apprentices, and 
assistants in business—are actually driven into 
the streets from very want of any thing like a 
hospitable or social home ! 

I am by no means prepared to say, how far true 
christian benevolence, acted out towards this class 
of the community, would lead us to give up our 
domestic comfort for their sakes, and for the sake 
of preserving them from harm; but I do know it 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 211 


would lead us to adopt a very different treatment 
of them, from that which generally prevails; and 
I consider also, that these duties rest especially 
with women. 

It is not easy for a man who has to fill the 
office of master to a number of apprentices and 
assistants during the hours of business, to unbend 
before them at his own fireside. But a con- 
siderate and high-principled woman, may, without 
loss of dignity, and certainly without loss of re- 
spect, make them feel that she regards it as her 
duty to be their friend as well as their mistress, 
and that she looks upon herself as under a sacred 
obligation to advise them in difficulties, to guard 
their welfare, and to promote their comfort, sim- 
ply because the all-wise Disposer of human affairs 
has seen meet to place them within the sphere of 
her influence. 

I have devoted a chapter to the influence of 
English women. Many chapters might be filled 
with the duties of tradesmen’s wives towards the 
young people employed in their husband’s affairs, 
and the responsibility attaching to them, for the 
tone of moral character which such persons ex- 
hibit through the whole of their after lives. Of 
how little value, in this point of view, is the 
immense variety of accomplishments generally 


DF by DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


acquired at school, compared with the discrimina- 
tion and tact that would enable a woman to ex~- 
tend her influence among the class of persons here 
described, and the principle that would lead her 
to turn such influence to the best account. How 
many a mother’s heart would be made glad by 
finding, when her son returned to his home, that 
he had experienced something of a mother’s kind- 
ness from his master’s wife; and how many a 
father would rejoice that his child had been pre- 
served from the temptations of a city life, by the 
good feeling that was cherished and kept alive at 
‘his master’s fireside ! 

It is for circumstances such as these, that a large 
proportion of the young women of England, now 
undergoing the process of education, have to pre- 
pare. Not to imitate the heroines they read of; 
but to plunge into the actual cares, and duties, and 
responsibilities of every-day existence. They will 
probably have little time either for drawing or 
music, may seldom be spoken to in a foreign tongue, 
and hardly have an opportunity of displaying half 
the amount of verbal knowledge with which their 
memories have been stored. But they will, if they 
are at all intent upon fulfillmg the great end of 
their existence, have to bethink themselves every 
hour, what is best to be done for the good and the 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 913 


happiness of those around them. For this great 
and laudable purpose, it is of the highest import- 
ance that they should cultivate habits of considera- 
tion, for how else can they expect to enter into 
the states of mind, and modes of feeling of those 
with whom they associate, so as to render the 
means they use effectual to the end desired ? 

It happens to almost all families, in the middle 
rank of life in England, that they are directly or 
remotely connected with relatives whose pecuniary 
means are much more limited than their own. To 
these, as well as to persons of recently decayed 
fortune, it is generally thought highly meritorious 
to extend the common courtesies of society. It 
implies no disrespect to this class of individuals, 
to call them poor relations; since the poor are 
often brought into a state of wholesome discipline, 
which eventually places them higher than the 
rich in the scale of moral worth. ‘The poor rela- 
tion may possibly have known in very early life 
what it was to enjoy all the comforts that ample 
means afford; but she becomes at last a sort of 
useful appendage to an uncle’s or a brother’s 
family, or is invited by her cousins whenever they 
happen to be in arrears with their plain-work— 
when one of the family wants nursing through 
a tedious illness—or when they are going abroad, 


214 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


and require some one to overlook the household 
in their absence. 

The poor relation, in the first place, is shown 
upstairs into akind of tolerable attic, where the 
walls are whitewashed, and where a little bed with 
blue-check curtains is prepared for her accom- 
modation. ‘They hope she will not mind sleeping 
in the attic—indeed they are sure she will not, 
she is such a dear, good creature; besides, they 
all like the attic for the view it commands, and 
mamma says it is the most comfortable room in 
the house: yet, somehow or other, the young ladies 
never sleep in the attic themselves ; and consider- 
ing it is the most desirable room in the house, and 
commands so excellent a view, it is astonishingly 
seldom occupied. 

The poor relation is then introduced to com- 
pany without a name—is spoken of as the person 
staying at Mrs. So and So’s; and, after being told 
that she need not sit longer than is agreeable to 
her after meals, is fairly installed into office, by 
being informed, that the south chamber is very 
warm without a fire, and has a good light too, so 
that she can see an hour longer there than in any 
other. Here the different members of the family 
bring their work for her to do, looking round 
every time they enter, with a hope that she does 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 215 


not feel cold. From the young lady of twenty 
years, to the child of three, a demand is made 
upon her for the supply of all absent buttons, and 
all broken strings. All the stockings hoarded 
up against her coming are brought to her to be 
darned—all borders to quill—all linen to be 
mended: and this inundation of work is the natu- 
ral consequence of her having shown symptoms 
of a desire to be generally agreeable; but if no 
such desire has been exhibited, wo betide the 
poor relation who proposes a visit to a rich one, 
where kindly feeling and habits of consideration 
have never been cultivated. 

I remember it was very startling to me in my 
youth, and appeared to me at that time a contra- 
diction in human nature, that, while people had 
comfortable homes, and were surrounded by every- 
thing that could minister to enjoyment, they were 
often invited out to partake of the enjoyments of 
their friends, and so pressed to prolong such 
visits, that it seemed as if their friends could 
never be weary of their society. But, let the 
same individuals have no home, let them be 
placed in circumstances calculated to render an 
invitation peculiarly acceptable, and it was with 
difficulty obtained, or not obtained at all. Though 
in all respects as agreeable as in former days, 


916 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


they were not pressed to stay beyond a very 
limited period; and some who had been the most 
solicitous to enjoy the favour of their company, 
suddenly found their accommodations so exceed- 
ingly small, that they could not invite any guest 
to partake of their hospitality. 

But these, my sisters, are disgraceful ways, for 
woman —warm-hearted, generous, noble-minded 
woman, to fall into. Irom men we expect not 
all those little niceties of behaviour and feeling 
that would tend to heal the wounds of adversity. 
Their necessary pursuits deprive them of many 
opportunities of making the unfortunate and 
afflicted feel, that, amidst the wreck of their 
worldly hopes, they have at least retained some 
moral dignity in the estimation of their friends; 
but from woman we do look for some redeeming 
charities, some tenderness of heart among the 
sordid avocations and selfish pursuits of this life ; 
and never do they rise to such true eminence, as 
when they bestow these charities, and apply this 
tenderness to the broken in spirit, the neglected, 
and the desolate, who are incapable of rendering 
them any return. 

Harassed by the cares and perplexities of a sor- 
did world, and disappointed in the high promise 
of our early youth; neglected, perhaps despised, 


» THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 217 


where we had hoped to find protection and sup- 
port in the hour of trial; driven out from the tem- 
ples of our soul’s idolatry ; it is to woman that we 
look for the mantle of charity, to cast over the 
blighted bosom—for the drop of sweetness, to 
mingle with our bitter cup. We stretch our eyes 
over the wide tumultuous ocean of life, for some 
spot on which our ark may rest. We send forth 
the raven, and it returns not; but the gentler 
dove comes back with the olive-branch, and we 
hail it as a harbinger of safety and peace. 
Although it must be confessed that women are 
sometimes too negligent of the tender offices of 
kindness towards those who have no immediate 
claim upon their affections, there remains some 
excuse for this particular species of culpability, in 
the general usages of society, and in the example 
of discreet and prudent persons, who deem it un- 
safe to deviate in any conspicuous manner from 
the beaten track of custom. No excuse, however, 
can be found for those who permit the closer ties 
of relationship to exist, without endeavouring to 
weave into the same bond all the tender sympa- 
thies of which the human heart is capable. 
Brothers and sisters are so associated in English 
homes, as materially to promote each other’s hap- 
piness, by the habits of kindness and consideration 


218 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


which they cultivate; and when a strong friend- 
ship can be formed between such parties, it is 
perhaps one of the most faithful and disinterested 
of any which the aspect of human life presents. 
A young man of kind and social feelings is often 
glad to find in his sister, a substitute for what he 
afterwards ensures more permanently in a wife ; 
and young women are not backward in returning 
this affection by a love as confiding, and almost 
as tender as they are capable of feeling. ‘Their 
intercourse has also the endearing charm of early 
association, which no later-formed acquaintance 
can supply. ‘They have shared the sunny hours 
of childhood together; and when the young man 
goes forth into the world, the love of his sister is 
like a talisman about his heart. Women, how- 
ever, must be watchful and studious to establish 
this intimate connexion, and to keep entire the 
golden cord by which they are thus bound. Affec- 
‘tion does not come by relationship alone; and 
never yet was the affection of man fully and last- 
ingly engaged by woman, without some means 
being adopted on her part to increase or preserve 
his happiness. The childish and most unsatis- 
factory fondness that means nothing but “I love 
you,” goes but a little way to reach the heart of 
man; but let his home be made more comfort~ 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 219 


able, let his peculiarities of habit and temper be 
studiously consulted, and social and familiar grati- 
fications provided for his daily use; and, unless 
he is ungrateful beyond the common average of 
mankind, he will be sure to regard the source 
from whence his comforts flow with extreme com- 
placency, and not unfrequently with affection. 

On the other hand, let the sister possess all that 
ardour of attachment which young ladies are apt 
to believe they feel, let her hang about his neck 
at parting, and bathe his face with her tears; if she 
has not taken the trouble to rise and prepare his 
early meal, but has allowed him to depend upon 
the servant, or to prepare it for himself; it is very 
questionable whether that brother can be made 
to believe in her affection; and certainly he will 
be far from feeling its value. If, again, they read 
some interesting volume together, if she lends her 
willing sympathy, and blends her feelings with his, 
entering into all the trains of thought and recol- 
lection which two congenial minds are capable of 
awakening in each other; and if, after the book is 
closed, he goes up into his chamber late on the 
Saturday night, and finds his linen unaired, button- 
less, and unattended to, with the gloves he had 
ten times asked to have mended, remaining un- 
touched, where he had left them; he soon loses 


220 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


the impression of the social hour he had been 
spending, and wishes, that, instead of an idle sis- 
ter, he had a faithful and industrious wife. He 
reasons, and reasons rightly, that while his sister is 
willing to share with him all that is most agreeable 
to herself, she is by no means willing to do for his 
sake what is not agreeable, and he concludes his 
argument with the conviction, that notwithstanding 
her professions, hers is not true affection. 

I do not mean that sisters ought to be the 
servants of their brothers, or that they should not, 
where domestics abound, leave the practical part 
of these duties to them. All that is wanted is 
stronger evidence of their watchfulness and their 
solicitude for their brother’s real comfort. ‘The 
manner in which this evidence shall be given, must 
still be left to their judgment, and their cireum- 
stances. There are, however a few simple rules, 
by which I should suppose all kindly affectioned 
women would be willing to be guided. No woman 
in the enjoyment of health should allow her brother 
to prepare his own meals at any time of the day, 
if it were possible for her to do it for him. No 
woman should allow her brother to put on linen in 
a state of dilapidation, to wear gloves or stockings 
in want of mending, or to return home without 
finding a neat parlour, a place to sit down without 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 221 


asking for it, and a cheerful invitation to partake 
of necessary refreshment. 

All this I believe is often faithfully done, where 
the brother is a gentlemanly, attractive, and pre- 
possessing person—in short, a person to be proud 
of in company, and pleased with in private; but 
a brother is a brother still, even where these 
attractions do not exist: where the duty is most 
irksome, the moral responsibility is precisely the 
same, as where it is most pleasing. Besides, who 
knows what female influence may not effect? It 
is scarcely probable that a younger brother, treated 
by his sisters with perpetual contempt, almost 
bordering upon disgust, regarded as an intolerable 
bore, and got rid of by every practicable means, 
will grow up into a companionable, interesting, 
and social man ; or if he should, he would certainly 
reserve these qualities for exercise beyond the 
circle of his own fireside, and for the benefit of 
those who could appreciate him better than his 
sisters. 

The virtue of consideration, in the intercourse of 
sisters with brothers, is never more felt than in the 
sacred duty of warning them of moral evil, and 
encouraging them in moral good. Here we see in 
an especial manner the advantages arising from 
habits of personal attention and kindness. A 


999 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


woman who stands aloof from the common offices 
of domestic usefulness, may very properly extend 
her advice to a husband, a brother, or a son; but 
when she has faithfully pointed out the fault she 
would correct, she must leave the object of her 
solicitude, with his wounded self-love unhealed, 
and his irritated feelings unrelieved. She has 
done her duty, and the impression most frequently 
remaining upon the mind of the other party is, 
either that she has done it in anger, or that it is 
impossible she can love a being of whom she enter- 
tains such hard thoughts. 

The sister who is accustomed to employ her 
hands in the services of domestic life, is, on these 
occasions, rich in resources. She feels the pain 
she has been compelled to give, and calculates how 
much she has to make up. It is a time for ten- 
fold effort; but it must be effort without display. 
In a gentle and unobtrusive manner, she does some 
extra service for her brother, choosing what would 
otherwise be degrading in its own nature, in order 
to prove in the most delicate manner, that though 
she can see a fault in him, she still esteems her- 
self his inferior, and though she is cruel enough to 
point it out, her love is yet so deep and pure as to 
sweeten every service she can render him. 

It is impossible for the human heart to resist 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 205 


this kind of evidence, and hence arises the strong 
influence that women possess over the moral feel- 
ings of those with whom they are intimately asso- 
ciated. ° 

( If such, then, be the effect of kindness and 
consideration upon the heart of man, what must 
we expect when it operates in all its force and 
all its sweetness upon that of woman. In her 
intercourse with man, it is impossible but that 
woman should feel her own inferiority; and it is 
right that it should be so. Yet, feeling this, it is 
also impossible but that the weight of social and 
moral duties she is called upon to perform, must, 
to an unsanctified spirit, at times appear oppres- 
sive. She has innumerable sources of disquietude, 
too, in which no man can partake; and from the 
very weakness and susceptibility of her own 
nature, she has need of sympathies which it would 
be impossible for him to render. She does not 
meet him upon equal terms. Her part is to 
make sacrifices, in order that his enjoyment may 
be enhanced. She does this with a willing spirit ; 
but, from error of judgment, or from want of con- 
sideration, she does it so often without producing 
any adequate result, and so often without grateful 
acknowledgment, that her spirit sometimes sinks 
within her, and she shrinks back from the cares 


994 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


and anxieties of every day, with a feeling that the 
burden of life is too heavy to be borne. 

Nor is man to be blamed for this. He knows 
not. half the foolish fears that agitate her breast. 
He could not be made to know, still less to under- 
stand, the intensity of her capability of suffering, 
from slight, and what to him would appear inade- 
quate causes. But women do know what their 
sex is formed to suffer; and for this very rea- 
son, there is sometimes a bond existing between 
sisters, the most endearing, the most pure and 
disinterested, of any description of affection which 
this world affords. 

I am the more inclined to think that the 
strength of this bond arises chiefly out of their 
mutual knowledge of each other’s capability of 
receiving pain; because, in families whose cir- 
cumstances are uniformly easy, and who have 
never known the visitation of any deep affliction, 
we often see the painful spectacle of sisters form- 
ing obstacles to each other in their progress, both 
to temporal and eternal happiness. ‘They seem 
to think the hey-day of life so unlikely to be 
clouded, that they can afford, wantonly and per- 
versely, to intercept the sunshine that would 
otherwise fall upon each other’s path; or to cal- 
culate so confidently upon the continued smooth- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 295 


ness of the stream of time, that they sportively 
drive each other upon the rocks and the quick- 
sands, which, even in the glad season of youth, 
will occasionally appear; while the very fact of 
knowing each other’s weak points of character, 
while it ought to excite their utmost tenderness, 
only affords them subjects for tormenting sar- 
casm and biting scorn. 

I have heard of hackney-coachmen in a certain 
highly-civilized metropolis, who adopt the cruel 
practice of lashing a galled or wounded part, if 
they can find one in the wretched animals they 
drive; but I hardly think the practice, abhorrent 
as it is, demands our condemnation more than 
that of the women who are thus false and cruel 
to each other—who, because they know exactly 
where to wound, apply the instrument of torture 
to the mind, unsparingly, and with the worst 
effect. 

Let us glance hastily over the humiliating sup- 
position that such a propensity does actually exist 
amongst women. Let us glance hastily, too, over 
the long train of minute and irremediable evils 
which the exercise of such a propensity is cal- 
culated to produce—the wounded feeling, the 
imagined injury, the suspicious dread, the bitter 
retort, and-the secretly-cherished revenge. It is 

L 


226 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


not enough for those who practise such habits to 
say, “I mean no harm: I love my sister, and 
would do her any signal service in my power.” 
Opportunities of performing signal services do 
not often fall in our way; but while we wait 
for these, we have opportunities innumerable of 
soothing or irritating the feelings of others, as our 
own dispositions prompt—of repelling or attract- 
ing—of weaning affection, or of inspiring confi- 
dence ;—and these ends are easily obtained, by 
the manner in which we conduct ourselves towards 
those whom Providence has placed immediately 
around us. 
So many young women, however, escape the 
censure here implied, by their self-complacency 
on the score of general kindness, that it may, 
perhaps, be as well to speak more explicitly on 
this important subject. It is not, then, to direct 
unkindness that I refer, but to that general 
absence of kind consideration, which produces 
the same effect. Perhaps one sister is unrea- 
sonably elated at the success of some of her 
plans: and in the midst of her extatic joy she 
finds herself mimicked with all the air of ineffable 
contempt, by another. Perhaps one sister is: 
rather unusually depressed in spirits from some 
incommunicable cause: the others pretend to 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 297 


weep, and make her gravity the subject of their 
merriment. Perhaps, in a moment of extreme 
embarrassment, she has committed some breach 
of good breeding, or looked awkward, or spoken 
foolishly : she finds afterwards that watchful eyes 
have been upon her, and that her every tone and 
movement have been the subject of ridicule in a 
little coterie of her sisters and her friends. Above 
all, perhaps she has gone a little too far in meet- 
ing the attentions of the other sex, and a mer- 
ciless outcry is against her, with her sisters at its 
head. 

Besides all this, there are often the strong wills 
of both parties set in opposition to each other, 
with a pertinacity that time itself is unable to 
subdue. For if, from the necessity of circum- 
stances, one sister has on one occasion been com- 
pelled to give way, she is only fortified with fresh 
resolution for the next point of dispute, that she 
may enjoy her turn of victory and triumph. 
These disputes are often about the merest trifles 
in the world, things so entirely worthless and 
animportant in themselves, that to find they have 
been the cause of angry words or bitter feelings, 
may well excite our astonishment, at the same 
time that it ought to teach us fresh lessons of dis- 
trust of ourselves, of humility, and watchful care. 


298 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


It is in this manner that sisters will sometimes 
imbitter their early days, and make what ought 
to be the bower of repose, a scene of rivalry and 
strife. But let us change this harsh picture, and 
turn to the sunnier hours of youthful love, when 
sisters who have shared one home in childhood, 
then separated by adverse circumstances, return, 
after the lapse of years, to enjoy a few brief days 
of heart-communings beneath the same roof again. 
How lovely then are the morning hours, when 
they rise with the sun, to lengthen out the day. 
They seat themselves in the old window, where 
their little childish hands were wont to pluck the 
tendrils of the rambling vine. They look out 
upon the lawn, and it is arrayed in the same 
green as when they gambolled there. ‘The sum- 
mer apple-tree, from whence they shook the rosy 
fruit, has moss upon its boughs: and the spread- 
ing ash reminds them they are no longer able 
to climb its topmost branch. What vicissitudes 
have they known—what change of place and cir- 
cumstance have they experienced —since they 
planted the small osier that now stands a stately 
willow by the stream! We will not ask what 
cruel necessity first drove them separately from 
this peaceful abode—what blight fell on their 
prospects—what ruin on their hopes. Are they 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 229 


not sisters unchanged in their affection ?—and in 
this. very consciousness they have a world of 
wealth. Where is the keen, contemptuous gaze 
of satire now? Where are the bickerings, the 
envyings, the words of provocation? ‘They would 
esteem it sacrilege to profane that place and hour 
with other thoughts than those of kindness. ‘The 
mote and the beam have vanished from their 
eyes: they know each other’s faults, but they 
behold them only to pity and forgive, or speak of 
them only to correct. Each heart is laid bare 
before the others, and the oil and the wine are 
poured in, to heal the wounds which the stranger 
has made. Each has her own store of painful 
experience to unfold; and she weeps to find her 
sister’s greater than her own. Each has had her 
share of insult, coldness, and neglect; and she is 
roused to indignation by hearing that her sister 
has had the same. Self becomes as nothing in 
comparison with the intense interest excited by a 
sister’s experience ; and as the secret anxieties of 
each bosom are revealed, fresh floods of tender- 
ness are called forth, and the early bond of child- 
hood, strengthened by vicissitude and matured by 
time, is woven yet more closely around the hearts 
of all. ‘Thus they go forth into the world again, 
strong in the confidence of that unshaken love 


230 DOMESTIC-HABITS OF 


which formed the sunshine of their childhood, 
and is now the solace of their riper years. ‘They 
may weep the tears of the alien in the stranger’s 
home, but they look forward to the summer-days 
of heart-warm confidence, when they shall meet 
again with the loveliest and the most beloved of 
all earth’s treasures, and the wintry hours pass 
over them bereft of half their power to blight. 

If such be the experience, and such the enjoy- 
ments of sisters separated by affliction, what must 
be the privileged lot of those, who, without any 
change of fortune, any falling off from the golden 
promise of early life, or any heart-rending be- 
reavement, learn the happy art of finding their 
enjoyment in each other, by studying what will 
make each other happy? ‘There may be faithful 
friendships formed in after years; but where a 
sister is a sister’s friend, there can be none so 
tender, and none so true. For a brother she 
may possibly entertain a more romantic attach- 
ment, because the difference in their circum- 
stances may afford more to interest their feelings ; 
but there is one universal point of failure in the 
friendship that exists between brothers and sisters 
—when a man marries, he finds in his wife all 
that he valued in his sister, with a more endear- 
ing sense of certainty in its possession; and when 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 831 


a woman marries, she finds all that she needed in 
the way of friendship and protection, with more 
of tenderness, of interest, and identity, than it 
was possible for her to experience in the affec- 
tion of her brother. Hence there arises, even in 
the uncalculating breast of youth, a suspicion 
that this friendship cannot last; and the breaking 
up of those establishments in which the sister has 
regulated the domestic affairs of her brother, is 
often a melancholy proof that the termination of 
their intimacy ought to have been calculated 
upon with more certainty than it generally is. 

With sisters the case is widely different. ‘They 
may seek in vain, through all the high and noble 
attributes of man, for that which is to be found 
alone in the true heart of woman; and, weak 
themselves, susceptible, dependent, and holding 
their happiness as it were with a sword suspended 
above their heads, they have need to be faithful 
to each other. 

No friend in after life can know so well as a 
sister what is the peculiar and natural bias of the 
character. Education may change the manners, 
and circumstances may call new faculties to light; 
but the old leaven remains at the heart’s core, 
and a sister knows it well. 

Women often share with other friends enjoy- 


phy DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


ments in which their sisters take no part; but 
they have not roamed together over that garden 
whose very weeds are lovely—the fertile and luxu- 
riant garden of childhood; they have not drank 
together at that fountain whose bubbling waters, 
are ever bright and pure—the early fountain of 
domestic joy; and the absence of this one charm 
in their friendship, must necessarily shut them 
out from participation in a world of associations, 
more dear, more beautiful, and more enduring, 
than the longest after-life can supply. 

I know not how it is with others, but it seems 
to me, that there never is—there never can be, 
amusement so original, so piquant, and so fraught 
with glee, as that which is enjoyed amongst happy 
sisters at their own fireside, or in their chamber, 
where one hardly would deny them all their idle 
hours of laughter and delight. ‘The very circum- 
stances which to one alone would have been a 
burden of heavy care, when participated in, are 
nothing; and the mere fact of talking over all 
their daily trials, sets every bosom free to beat 
and bound with a new life. 

We must not however forget, it is in seasons of 
affliction that we prove the real value of the deep 
well-spring of a sister’s love. Other hands, and 
hands perhaps as skilful, may smooth our couch 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 9335 


in sickness. Other voices may speak words of 
kindness in our hour of need, and other eyes may 
beam upon us with tenderness and love; but can 
they ever be like the hands that joined with ours 
in twining the rosy wreaths of infancy—the voices 
that spoke sweetly to us in the tones of child- 
hood—the eyes that gazed with ours, in all the 
wonder of first-dawning thought, abroad upon 
the beautiful creation, over the earth and sea, 
the green hills, and the waving woods, and up to 
the starry heavens, that page of glory too bright 
for human eye to read. 

No; there is something in the home-fellowship 
of early life, that we cannot, if we would, shake 
off in the .days of darkness and distress, when 
sickness clouds the brow, and grief sits heavily 
upon the heart. 1t is then that we pine for the 
faithful hand, the voice that was an echo to our 
own, and the kindred countenance so familiar in 
our childhood; and sisters who are kindly affec- 
tioned one towards another are not slow to answer 
this appeal of nature. ‘Tender and delicate women 
are not backward to make sacrifices in such a 
cause. ‘They will hasten upon difficult and dan- 
gerous journeys, without feeling the perils they 
undergo. ‘The anticipated accidents of time and 
chance have no weight with them, for self is 

L 2 


234 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


annihilated by the overwhelming power of their 
affection. Obstacles cannot hinder, nor persua- 
sion retard their purpose: a sister suffers, and 
they esteem it their highest privilege to assert, in 
defiance of all opposition, the indisputable claims 
of a sister’s love. They have an inalienable right 
to share in her calamity, whatever it may be; aud 
this right they will not resign to another. 

But what shall stay my pen, when I touch upon 
this fertile and inexhaustible theme? Sisters who 
have never known the deepest, holiest influence 
of a sister’s love, will not be enabled, from any 
definition I can offer, to understand the purity, 
and the refreshing power of this well-spring of 
human happiness. Sisters who have known this, 
will also know that its height and its depth are 
beyond the power of language to describe; that 
it is, indeed, the love which many waters cannot 
quench, neither can the floods drown it. 

Is it not, then, worth all the cost of the most 
studious consideration, the most careful kindness, 
to win this treasure, and to make it ours? to pur- 
chase this gem, and to wear it next our hearts? 
I have pointed out some of the means by which it 
may be lost or won: I will now point out the most 
important reasons why it should be cherished with — 
unceasing assiduity. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 935 


_ Sisters have an almost unbounded influence over 
each other; and all influence implies a propor- 
tionate degree of moral responsibility. ‘The tone 
and temper of the human mind must be closely 
watched, and intimately studied, in order to apply 
with effect the means of benefit. “The most zealous 
endeavours to do good, may fail for want of oppor- 
tunity; but opportunity never can be wanting to 
those who share the same domestic hearth, who sit 
at the same board, and occupy the same chamber 
of rest. ‘There must, with such, be unveilings of 
the heart before each other. here must be sea- 
sons for administering advice, and for imparting 
instruction, which the stranger never can com- 
mand. But.without the practice of those habits 
of kindness and consideration, so earnestly recom- 
mended here, the nearest’relative, even the sister, 
may be placed on the same footing as the stranger, 
and have no more familiar access to the heart than 
the mere acquaintance. 

It is therefore most important to the true Chris- 
tian, whose desire is to invite others to a partici- 
pation in the blessings she enjoys, that she should 
seek to promote the happiness of those around 
her, in such a way as to render them easy and 
familiar in her presence, and to convince them 
that she is in word and deed their friend. Until 


936 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


this object is attained, little good can be done in 
the way of influence; but this secured, innumer- 
able channels are opened, by which an enlight- 
ened mind may operate beneficially upon others. 
We will imagine the case of a sister, whose feel- 
ings have been recently impressed with the import- 
ance of some hitherto unpractised duty, and who, 
at a loss how to begin with that improvement in 
her daily conduct which conscience points out as 
necessary to her peace, shrinks from the notice of 
the world, abashed at the idea of assuming more 
than she has been accustomed to maintain. With 
what fear and trembling will such a one, in her 
closet or her chamber, at the close of the summer's 
evening, or by the last glimmer of the winter’s 
fire, when she and her sister share the silent hours 
of night together, unfold the burden of her spirit, 
and reveal the inner workings of her troubled 
mind! What should we say of a sister who treated 
this confidence with treachery, with ridicule or 
spleen? What should we say, but that she deserved 
to find the heart she had thus insulted a sealed 
book to her for ever? What should we say, on the 
other hand, of her who met this confidence with 
tenderness and respect? That she enjoyed one of 
the greatest privileges permitted us in this our 
imperfect and degraded state—the privilege of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 237 


imparting consolation and instruction at the same 
time, and of binding to her bosom the fond affec- 
tion of a sister, as her comfort and support 
through all her after years. 

It is a common remark for sisters to make upon 
each other, that they would have paid some defer- 
ence to the religious scruple, or the pious wish, 
had it originated with a more consistent person. 
They should remember that there must be a 
dawning of imperfect light, to usher in the perfect 
day; and that he who crushes the first germ of 
vegetation, commits an act equivalent to that of 
him who fells the stately tree. ‘They should 
remember also, it is not only the great and public 
efforts of christian benevolence and charity, that 
are owned of God, and blessed with his approval ; 
but that at the hour of midnight, in the secret 
chamber, and when the world takes no cognizance 
of our actions, His eye beholds them, and His ear 
is open to detect the slightest whisper that con- 
veys its blessing or its bane to the heart of a 
familiar friend. 


238 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


CHAPTER IX. 
DOMESTIC HABITS—CONSIDERATION AND KINDNESS. 


THERE yet remain some aspects of human life, 
which it is impossible to pass over without the 
most earnest solicitude, that even if in all other 
capacities woman should forget her responsibility, 
she might remember what is due from her in these. 
It is, then, to the sacred and inalienable bond 
between a daughter and her parents, that our 
attention must now be given. 

It would seem but reasonable to suppose, that 
as soon as an amiable young woman of even par- 
tially enlightened mind, attained that stage of 
maturity when most rational beings begin to make 
use of their own powers of observation, she would 
naturally be led to reflect upon the situation of her 
mother, to contemplate her character and habits, 
and to regard, with sympathy at least, the daily 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 239 


and hourly fatigues, and anxieties, which the 
nature of her domestic circumstances renders it 
necessary for her to undergo. If the young person 
has brothers or sisters less advanced in life than 
herself, she cannot fail to observe the assiduity with 
which all their wants are provided for by maternal 
care, as well as the self-denial and disinterested 
love, by which their safety is guarded, and their 
happiness preserved. 

It is equally reasonable to suppose, that having 
such interesting subjects of grateful and affec- 
tionate consideration continually present to her 
eye, and to her mind, the young person would 
reason thus: “In this manner my mother has 
watched overme. ‘Through long nights of weari- 
ness and exhaustion she has rocked me in her 
arms, and stilled the sighs of her own bosom, from 
the fear of disturbing my repose. Not only has 
she denied herself every amusement and every 
gratification that would have drawn her away 
from the sphere of my childish pastimes, but also 
the wonted recreations necessary for the preserva- 
tion of her health; until her cheek grew pale, and 
her step feeble in my service. I was then unable 
to make any other return than by my infantine 
caresses ; and often when she was the most weary, 
or the most enfeebled, my pampered selfishness 


940 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


was the most requiring. Thus I have incurred a 
debt of gratitude, for the repayment of which the 
limit of a natural life will scarcely be sufficient. 
The summer of her existence is waning: mine is 
yet to come. I will so cultivate my feelings, and 
regulate my habits, as to enjoy the happiness of 
sharing her domestic burdens, and thus prove to 
her that I am not unmindful of the benefit I have 
myself derived from the long-suffering of a mother’s 
love.” 

Do we find this to be the prevailing feeling 
amongst the young ladies of the present day ? 
Do we find the respected and venerated mother 
so carefully cherished, that she is permitted to sit 
in perfect peace, the presiding genius, as she 
ought to be, over every department of domestic 
comfort? her cares lightened by participation with 
her affectionate daughters, her mind relieved of 
its burdens by their watchful love, herself arrayed 
in the best attire, as a badge of her retirement 
from active duty, and smiling as the steps of time 
glide past her, because she knows that younger 
feet are walking in her own sweet ways of plea- 
santness and peace. 

Is this the picture presented in the present ee 
by the far-famed homes of England? Do we not 
rather find the mother, the faithful and time-worn 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 241 


mother of the family, not only the moving spring 
of all domestic management, but the actual work- 
ing power, by which every household plan is 
carried into practical effect. I refer of course to 
cases where domestics are few, and pecuniary 
means not over-abundant, where we see the mother 
hastening with anxious solicitude to answer every 
call from every member of the family; as if her 
part in the duties of life was not only to have 
waited upon her children in infancy, but to con- 
duct them to an easy and luxurious old age; in 
short, to spare their feet from walking, their hands 
from labour, and their heads from thought. 

I know that it is mistaken kindness in the 
mother to allow herself thus to become a household 
drudge. I know also that young ladies are easily 
satisfied with what appears to them a reasonable 
excuse, that “‘ mamma prefers doing all these things 
herself,” that she is such a dear kind soul, they 
would not rob her even of the merit of mending 
their own garments.” But let me ask how often 
she prefers doing these things herself, simply 
because of their unwillingness to do them; and 
how their ungracious manner, when they have 
been asked to relieve her, has wounded her patient 
spirit, and rendered it less irksome to her to do 
the hardest manual labour, than to ask them again? 


242 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


Let me remind them also, that there is a habit of 
doing things so awkwardly, that you will not be 
likely to be called upon for your services a second 
time; and whether by accident or design, I will 
not presume to say, but some young ladies cer- 
tainly appear to be great adepts in this method of 
performing their duties. 

It is a most painful spectacle, in families where 
the mother is the drudge, to see the daughters 
elegantly dressed, reclining at their ease, with 
their drawing, their music, their fancy-work, and 
their light reading; beguiling themselves of the 
lapse of hours, days, and weeks, and never dream- 
ing of their responsibilities; but, as a necessary 
consequence of the neglect of duty, growing weary 
of their useless lives, laying hold of every newly 
invented stimulant to rouse their drooping ener- 
gies, and blaming their fate, when they dare not 
blame their God, for having placed them where 
they are. 

These individuals will often tell you with an 
air of affected compassion—for who can believe it 
real ?—that “ poor dear mamma is working her- 
self to death.” Yet no sooner do you propose. 
that they should assist her, than they declare she 
is quite in her element—in, short, that she would 
never be happy if she had only halfas much to do. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 243 


I have before observed, that it is not difficult 
to ascertain, on entering a family, whether the 
female members of it are, or are not actuated by 
habits of kindness and consideration; and in no 
instance is it more easily detected, than in the 
behaviour of the daughters to their mother. We 
have probably all seen elegant and accomplished 
young ladies doing the honours of the house to 
their guests, by spreading before them that lavish 
profusion of books and pictures, with which every 
table of every drawing-room is, in these modern 
times, adorned. We have heard them expatiate 
with taste and enthusiasm upon the works of art, 
upon the beauties of foreign scenery, and the 
delights of travelling abroad; while the mother is 
simultaneously engaged in superintending the man- 
agement of the viands about to be spread before 
the company, or in placing the last leaf of garni- 
ture around the dessert, upon which her daughters 
have never condescended to bestow a thought. 

It is easy, in these cases, to see by the anxious 
and perturbed appearance of the mistress of the 
house, when she does at last appear, that she has 
had no assistance, but that which a very limited 
number of domestics could render, behind the 
scenes; that every variety of the repast which her 
guests are pressed to partake of, has cost her both 


244 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


trouble to invent and labour to prepare; and we 
feel that we are regaling ourselves too much at 
her expense. 

There is a painful contrast between the care and 
anxiety depicted on her brow, and the indifference 
—the real or pretended ignorance with which the 
young ladies speak, when it is absolutely necessary, 
of any of those culinary compositions which they 
regard as belonging exclusively to the department 
of mothers and servants. If by any possible mis- 
chance, the good woman alludes to the flavour of 
her compounds, wishing, purely for the sake of her 
guests, that she had added a little more of the salt, 
or the cinnamon,—indications of nausea, accom- 
panied by symptoms of indignation and disgust, 
immediately manifest themselves amongst the 
young ladies, and they really wonder what mamma 
will be absurd enough to say next. 

It is in such families as this, not only on days 
of leisure, but on days when extra services are 
sure to be wanted in the home department, that 
the daughters always find some pressing call upon 
their attention out of doors. They have their morn- 
ing calls to make; and there is that mysterious 
shopping to attend to, that never has an end. 
Indeed, one would almost think, from the frequency 
with which they resort to some of the most fashion- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 245 


able shops in town, that each of these young ladies 
had a peculiar taste for the mode of life prevailing 
in this particular sphere of exertion, were it not 
for the indignation she manifests at the remotest 
hint upon the duty of assisting her father in his. 

It is astonishing how duties out of doors accu- 
mulate upon persons who are glad of any excuse to 
escape from those at home. No one can deny the 
necessity they are under of pursuing that course 
of mental improvement begun at school; and 
there are lectures on every science to be attended, 
borrowed books to be returned, and little coteries 
of studious young people, to join in their morning 
classes. 

It is also curious to observe that these young 
ladies who can with difficulty be induced to move 
about in their own homes, even to spare their 
mother’s weary feet, who esteem it an act of 
oppression in her to send them to the highest 
apartment of the house, and of degradation in 
themselves, to descend to the lowest, —it is curious 
to observe how these regard themselves as under 
an absolute necessity to walk out every day for 
their health, and how they choose that precise 
time for walking, when their mothers are most 
busy, and their domestic peace, by a natural con- 
sequence, most likely to be invaded. 


246 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


I would touch, with extreme delicacy, upon 
another branch of public occupation, because I 
believe it to be entered upon, in innumerable 
instances, with feelings which do honour to 
humanity, and to that religion, under whose influ- 
ence alone, such avocations can be faithfully 
carried on. But I must confess, there appears to 
me some ground to fear, that the amusement of 
doing public good, the excitement it produces, 
and especially the exemption it purchases from 
domestic requirements, has something to do with 
the zeal evinced by some young females to be 
employed as instruments in the dissemination of 
religious knowledge, and the augmentation of 
funds appropriated to benevolent uses. 

Fearing, however, lest what might assume even 
the faintest colouring of uncharitableness, should 
fall from my pen on this delicate but most import- 
ant subject, I will leave it with the individuals 
thus engaged, as fitter for their consideration, than 
for my remark. The world takes cognizance of 
their actions, and it is perhaps occasionally too 
lavish in its bestowment of their praises. But 
the world is a false friend, for it can applaud 
where there.is little real merit, and condemn 
where there ought to be no blame. 

Let not the really faithful and sincere be hurt 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 247 


by these insinuations. Their cause is beyond the 
penetration of man, and their real springs of 
action are known, where alone they can be truly 
estimated,—where alone they can meet with their 
just reward. 

How different from the feelings called forth by 
habits such as I have just described, are those 
with which we take up our abode in a family, 
where we know that the morning sun has risen 
upon daughters, who meet its early beams with 
the cheerful determination, that whatever may be 
the business of the day, their hands, and not their 
mother’s, shall do the actual work. Her expe- 
rience, and her ever-guiding judgment, may direct 
their labours; but she who has so often toiled 
and watched for them, shall at least enjoy another 
opportunity of seeing how gladly and how richly 
they can repay the debt. The first thought that 
occupies their mind, is, how to guard her precious 
health. They meet her in the morning with affec- 
tionate solicitude, and look to see if her cheek 
has become less pale; whether her smile is 
languid, or cheerful—her step weary, or light. 

I must again repeat, that one of the surest tests 
of true disinterested love, is this readiness to detect 
indisposition. Persons who are in the habit of 
cherishing antipathies, seldom believe in the minor 


248 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


ailments of those they dislike. ‘These facts render 
it the more surprising, that daughters should not 
always see the symptoms of exhausted strength, 
which too frequently manifest themselves in indus- 
trious and care-taking mothers; that they should 
not watch with the tenderest anxiety the slightest 
indication of their valuable health being liable to 
decay. Yet so itis, that the mother of a family, 
who cares for every ailment in her household, is 
the last to be cared for herself, except in cases 
affording those beautiful exemplifications of filial 
duty, to which allusion has just been made. 

With daughters who are sensible of the strong 
claims of a mother’s love, no care can be too great, 
no solicitude too tender, to bestow upon that 
beloved parent. ‘They know, that if deprived of. 
this friend of their infancy—this guide of their 
erring feet—the world will be comparatively poor 
to them: and as the miser guards his hoarded 
treasure, they guard the life, for which that world 
would be incapable of supplying a substitute. 

There are few subjects of contemplation more 
melancholy, than the waste of human love which 
the aspect of this world presents—of deep, tender, 
untiring, disinterested love, bestowed in such a 
manner as meets no adequate return; and what 
must be the harvest gathered in, to a mother’s 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND 249 


faithful bosom, when she finds that she has reared 
up children who are too refined to share her hum- 
ble cares, too learned and too clever to waste their 
talents on a sphere of thought and action like her 
own, and too much engaged in the pursuit of intel- 
lectual attainments, even to think of her! 

Yet to whom do we look for consolation when 
the blight of sickness or sorrow falls upon our 
earthly peace, but to a mother! And who buta 
mother is invited to partake of our afflictions or 
our trials? If the stigma of worldly degradation 
falls upon us, we fly to a mother’s love for that 
mantle of charity which is denied elsewhere. With 
more honoured and distinguished associates, we 
may have smiled away the golden hours of life’s 
young prime; but the bitter tears of experience 
are wept upon a mother’s bosom. We keep for our 
summer friends the amusing story, the brilliant 
witticism, or the intellectual discourse; but we 
tell to a mother’s ear the tale of our distress, and 
the history of our wrongs. For all that belongs 
to the weakness and the wants of humanity, a 
mother’s affection is sorely taxed; why then 
should not daughters have the noble feeling to say 
before the world, and to let their actions speak 
the same language,—* This is my earliest, and 
my best friend.” 3 

M 


950 DOMESTIC HABITS OF — 


It is true, the mother may be far behind the 
daughter in the accomplishments of modern educa- 
tion; she may, perhaps, occasionally betray her 
ignorance of polite literature, or her want of ac- 
quaintance with the customs of polished society. 
But how can this in any way affect the debt of 
obligation existing between her daughter and her- 
self? or how can it lessen the validity of her claim 
to gratitude for services received, and esteem. for 
the faithfulness with which those services have 
been performed ? 

Let us not believe of the young ladies of the 
present day that they can for any lengthened 
period, allow the march of mind to outrun the 
growth of their kindly feelings. Let us rather 
hope the time is coming when they will exhibit to 
the world that beautiful exemplification of true 
dignity—a high degree of intellectual culture 
rendered conducive to the happiness of those who 
claim their deepest gratitude and their tenderest 
affection. 

The next view we propose to take of the domes- 
tic habits of the women of this favoured country, 
is that of their behaviour in the relation between 
daughters and fathers. 

The affection existing between fathers and 
daughters, is a favourite theme with writers both 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 251 


of romance and reality; and the familiar walks of 
life, we doubt not, are rich in instances of this 
peculiar kind of affection, existing in a lovely, and 
most unquestionable form. Still there are points 
of view in which this subject, as illustrated by the 
customs of society in the present day, cannot be 
contemplated without pain. 

I have often had occasion to speak of the duties 
of women towards their fathers, brothers, hus- 
bands, and sons, when engaged in the active pur- 
suits of trade; and there is an anomaly presentea 
by society of this class in England, which I am 
particularly anxious to point out to the rising 
generation. 

There are vast numbers of worthy and indus- 
trious men, not only of the young and the middle- 
aged, but of those who are sinking into the vale 
of years, who spend almost the whole of their 
waking lives in scenes and occupations, from 
which almost everything in the shape of enjoy- 
ment must necessarily be shut out. | 

In looking into the shops, the warehouses, the 
offices, and the counting-houses, of our commer- 
cial and manufacturing towns, we are struck with 
the destitution of comfort which everywhere pre- 
vails, and we ask,—‘ Are these the abodes of 
free-born, independent men ?” 


952 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


I should be sorry to be weak enough to sup- 
pose that an honest and industrious man may not 
be just as happy when he treads on boards, as 
when he treads on Turkey carpets; yet again, 
when we begin the early day with such indi- 
viduals, and see what their occupations actually 
are, from nine in the morning, often until late in 
the afternoon or evening, for weeks, and months, 
and years, with scarcely any respite or relaxation, 
we naturally ask how are the wives and daughters 
of these men employed? For surely if there be 
a necessity for the father of the family to be 
situated thus, the kinder and more disinterested 
members of his household must be dwelling in 
abodes even more uncongenial and revolting than 
these. It is but reasonable to expect that we 
should find them in apartments less luxurious in 
their furniture, with windows less pervious to the 
light of day, their persons perched upon harder 
stools, and altogether accommodated in an inferior 
manner. And this we are led to expect, simply 
because it is difficult to believe of generous- 
hearted women, that they would be willing to 
enjoy indulgences purchased at the sacrifice of 
the comfort of those they love, and by the degra- 
dation of those whom they look up to as their 
superiors. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 253 


Perhaps we are told that to man it is no sacri- 
fice to spend his life in these dungeon-like apart- 
ments, shut in from the pure air, and compelled 
to deal with the extreme minutiz of what is 
neither interesting nor dignified in itself—that 
he regards not these trifling inconveniences, that 
he is accustomed to them, and that they are what 
the world esteems as manly and befitting; yet on 
being invited to pay our respects to the ladies of 
the family, we find ourselves transported into a 
scene so entirely different from that of his daily 
toil, that we are led-to exclaim,—‘ How opposite 
must be the tastes of men and women in this 
sphere of life, in England!” A little more 
acquaintance with their domestic habits, however, 
enables us to discover that their tastes are not 
so different as their circumstances, and that the 
cares, the anxieties, and the actual labour, which 
the man is undergoing every day, are placing” him 
on.a very different footing, with regard to personal 
comfort, from the females of his household. 

And how do the women strive to soothe these 
cares, to relieve these anxieties, and to lighten . 
these labours? Do they not often make their 
own personal expenses extend to the extreme 
limit that his means will afford? Do they not 
dress, and visit, receive visiters, and practise all 


254 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


those elegant accomplishments, which their father’s 
exertions have been taxed to pay for? 

I know that the blame does not always rest 
with the female members of the family, but that 
men, especially when they first marry, are often 
pleased to behold their wives arrayed in the most 
costly habiliments which their means can procure; 
in addition to this, they believe that their interest 
in the world is advanced by keeping up a certain 
degree of costly display, both in dress and furni- 
ture. As time advances, however, and their 
spirits grow less buoyant under the pressure of 
accumulated cares, especially if these cares have 
been unproductive of so golden a harvest as they 
had anticipated, and when daughters are growing 
up to double—nay, to treble their mother’s ex- 
penditure, by adding all the imagined essentials 
of modern refinement; the father then perceives, 
perhaps too late to retrieve his ruined cireum- 
stanees, the error into which he has been led; 
and fain would he then, in the midst of his bitter 
regrets, persuade his daughters to begin to think 
and act upon different principles, from those which 
he has himself so thoughtlessly instilled. 

Perhaps the father is sinking into the vale of 
years, his spirit broken, and some of the growing 
infirmities of age stealing insidiously upon him- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 254 


His manly figure begins to stoop, his eye grows 
dim, and he comes home weary from his daily 
labour. What a melancholy picture is presented 
by the image of such a man going forth in public, 
with his gaily and expensively-dressed daughters 
fluttering by his side! 

Nor is this all. Let us follow them home. 
He rises early, wearied and worn as he is, and, 
snatching a hasty breakfast before his daughters 
have come down, goes forth to his daily avoca- 
tions, leaving them to their morning calls, light 
reading, and fancy-work, until his return. At the 
close of the day, his step is again heard on the 
threshhold. He has begun to feel that the walk 
is too much for him. Conveyances, in countless 
numbers, have passed him on his way, but these 
are not times for him to afford the luxury of 
riding, for a rival tradesman has just opened a 
tempting establishment in the neighbourhood of 
his own, and the evils of competition are destroy- 
ing half his gains. With a jaded look and feeble. 
step, then, he enters his home. He wipes the 
gathering dew from his wrinkled forehead, sits 
down with a sigh almost amounting to a groan 
of despondency, and then looks round upon the 
well-furnished parlour, where the ladies of his 
family spend their idle hours. 


256 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


We will not libel the daughters so far as to say, 
they are guilty of neglect in not invitmg him to 
partake of his evening meal. They may even 
press their kisses on his cheek, and express their 
welcome in the warmest terms. Supposing they 
have done all this, and that he is beginning to 
feel invigorated and refreshed, perhaps revived a 
little in his spirit by this evidence of their affec- 
tion, at length he smiles; and that smile has been 
eagerly watched for, as the indication that his 
heart is warming into generosity. 

Now is the auspicious time: “ Papa, dear, have 
you ever thought again of the silk cloaks you 
promised us, as soon as Mr. Moody’s bill was 
paid? And Emma wants a velvet bonnet this 
winter. And Papa, dear, where did you say we 
could get the best satin shoes >” ‘* My love,” says 
the wife, in a graver, and more important tone, 
“these poor girls are sadly in want of drawing- 
paper—indeed, of pencils, and of every thing 
belonging to their drawing; for you know it is of 
no use having a master to teach them, unless we 
provide them with the necessary materials. And 
Isabella’s music—I was positively ashamed to hear 
her play those old pieces again at Mrs. Melburn’s 
last night.” 

We have seen pictures of birds of prey hovering 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 257 


about their dying victim; but I doubt whether a 
still more repulsive and melancholy picture might 
not be made, of a man of business, in the decline 
of life, when he naturally asks for repose, spurred 
and goaded into fresh exertions, by the artificial 
wants and insatiable demands of his wife and 
daughters. 

The root of the evil, I grant to be, not so much 
in the hard hearts of the individuals here described, 
as in the system of false refinement which now 
prevails in this country. But whatever the cause 
or its remedy may be, those will be happy days 
for England, when her noble-minded women, 
despite the prejudices of early education, shall 
stand forth. before the world, and show that they 
dare to be dutiful daughters rather than ladies 
of fashion ; and that the principles of integrity, 
generosity, and natural feeling, have taught them 
never to wish for enjoyment purchased by the 
sacrifice of a father’s health, or a husband’s peace. 

I know not whether it often occurs to the young, 
or only to those whose experience has been of 
longer duration, to make this observation upon 
human nature—that it is not zttentional offence, 
or intentional injury, which always inflicts the 
severest pain. A mother who, by her ill-judged 
indulgence, fosters in her child a selfish and domi- 

M 2 


253 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


neering temper, and thus renders such evil dispo- 
sitions identified with the very nature of that child, 
so that it is a stranger to any other principles of 
action, is as much hurt, when in after life, her 
child is selfish and domineering towards herself, 
as if he actually departed from his accustomed 
line of conduct, for the purpose of being pointedly 
unkind to her. In the same way, the father who 
has brought up his family in habits of extrava- 
gance, when he feels the tide of prosperity turning 
against him, forgets that those habits are neces- 
sarily stronger than his reasoning, and is wounded 
to the soul to think that his daughters are not 
more considerate. Upon the same principle of 
groundless expectation, we often see well-meaning 
but injudicious parents taking extreme pains to 
guard their children against one particular error 
in conduct, or one species of vice, yet neglecting 
to lay that only sure foundation of moral conduct 
which is to be found in religious principle; and 
these, again, are shocked to find, as their children 
advance in life, that all their endeavours have 
been unproductive of the desired result. Nor 
must I, while pointing out errors in the behaviour 
of children towards their parents, omit to observe, 
that if parents would be more solicitous to instil 
into their minds the importance of relative and 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 259 


social duties faithfully performed, instead of cap- 
tiously reproving them for every deviation from 
the strict line of these duties, they would find 
themselves more happy in their families, more ten- 
derly watched over in sickness and sorrow—more 
cherished and revered in the decline of life. 

Still, though the fault may, in some cases, have 
been originally with the parents, there is little 
excuse for daughters who are of age to think and 
act for themselves. Habit, we know, is proverbially 
accounted second nature; but we know also, that 
even our first nature is capable of being changed. 

Fle who has become subject to a painful and 
dangerous disease, through the neglect or mis- 
management of those who had the care of him in 
early life, does not content himself with saying it 
was the maltreatment of his nurse that brought 
upon him this calamity. If the disease admits of 
remedy, if it even admits of alleviation, he is as 
earnest in seeking out and applying the proper 
means of relief, as if he had been the sole cause of 
his own affliction. And shall we confine our powers 
of reasoning rightly, and acting promptly, to the 
promotion of the benefit of the body, and leave 
the immortal mind to suffer for eternity, without 
applying such remedies as are provided for its 
use ? 


260 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


Whether the evil be in the original taint of our 
own nature, or in the same nature inherent in 
another form, and operating upon us through the 
medium of injudicious treatment, we stand in 
precisely the same position with regard to moral 
responsibility, and accountability to the Searcher 
of all human hearts. 

It is right that the tender sympathy of our 
friends should be excited, when we tell them, that 
the faults for which they blame us, were fostered 
’ and encouraged by the mistaken judgment of our 
parents in early life; but there is a tribunal at 
which this plea will be of little avail, if, while the 
means of reformation are yet within our reach, we 
suffer such habits to strengthen and establish 
themselves as parts of our character; and I 
would earnestly recommend to the young women 
of England, that they should rouse themselves, 
and act upon the first conviction, that the advan- 
tages resulting from what is called a finished 
education, are but so many additional talents lent 
them, for employment in the service of that gra- 
cious Father, who has charged his children with 
the keeping of each other’s happiness; and who, 
when he instituted the parental bond, and filled 
the mother’s heart with love, and touched with 
tenderness the father’s firmer soul, was pleased 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 261 


to appoint them after years of weakness, suffering, 
and infirmity, when their children would be able 
to enjoy the holy privilege of conducting their 
feeble steps, in peace and safety, towards the close 
of their earthly pilgrimage. 


262 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


CHAPTER xX. 


DOMESTIC HABITS—CONSIDERATION AND KINDNESS. 


Tuat branch of the subject upon which I am now 
entering, being one of so much importance in the 
sum of human happiness, as scarcely to admit of 
comparison with any other, it might be expected 
that I should especially direct the attention of the 
reader to the duties of consideration and kindness 
in the married state, by entering into the minutiz 
of its especial requirements, and recommending 
them, with all the earnestness of emphatic detail, 
to the serious consideration of the women of 
England. Happy indeed should I be to do this, 
did I not feel that, at the same time, I should 
be touching upon a theme too delicate for the 
handling of an ordinary pen, and venturing be- 
yond that veil, which the sacredness of such a 
connexion is calculated to draw over all that is 
extreme in the happiness or misery of human 
life. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 263 


I shall therefore glance only upon those points 
which are most obvious to the eye of a third 
party; and in doing this, it will be found, that 
many of the remarks I have made upon the beha- 
viour of daughters to their fathers, are equally 
applicable to that of wives towards their hus- 
bands. There is, however, this great difference— 
the connexion existing between married people is 
almost invariably a matter of choice. A daughter 
may, sometimes, imagine herself excused, by sup- 
posing that her father is too uncongenial in mind 
and character, for her to owe him much in the 
way of companionship. She may think his man- 
ners vulgar, and believe that if she had a father 
who was a_ gentleman, she would be more atten- 
tive and considerate to him: but her husband 
cannot have married her without her own con- 
sent; and therefore the engagement she has 
voluntarily entered into, must be to fulfil the 
duties of a wife to him as he is, not as she could 
have wished or imagined him to be. 

These considerations lead me to a view of the 
subject which I have often been compelled to 
take with deep regret, but which I fear no humar. 
pen, and still less mine, will be able to change— 
it is the false system of behaviour kept up be- 
tween those who are about to enter into the rela: 


264 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


tion of marriage; so that when they settle down 
upon the true basis of their own characters, and 
appear to each other what they actually are, the 
difference is sometimes so great, as almost to 
justify the inquiry, whether the individual can 
really be the same. 

I presume not to expatiate upon that process 
denominated courtship, as it is frequently carried 
on by men. I venture not to accuse them of injus- 
tice, in cherishing, in their early intercourse with 
the object of their choice, the very faults which 
they afterwards complain of in the wife. My chief 
solicitude is for my own sex, that they should not 
only be faithful after marriage, but upright and 
sincere before; and that they should scorn to 
engage a lover, by little acts of consideration and 
kindness, which they are not prepared to practise 
even more willingly towards the husband. 

I have known cases in which a kind-hearted 
woman would have esteemed herself robbed of a 
privilege, if her lover had asked any other person 
than herself so much as to mend his glove. Yet 
is it not possible for the same woman, two years 
after marriage, to say—‘* My sister, or my cousin, 
will do that for you. I am too busy now.” 

Nor is it the act alone, but the manner in which 
the act is done, that conveys a false impression of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 265 


what will be the manner of that woman after mar- 
riage. Icharge no one with intentional decep- 
tion. ‘The very expression of the countenance is 
that of real and intense enjoyment, while the act 
of kindness is performed. All I regret is, that the 
same expression of countenance should not always 
accompany the same performance in the wife. 
Women of acute sensibility must feel the loss of 
personal attractions, when time begins to tell upon 
their youthful charms. But, oh! that they would 
learn by the warning of others, rather than by their 
own experience, that it is more frequently the 
want of this expression of cheerful, genuine, disin- 
terested kindness, than the want of youthful beauty, 
that alienates their husbands’ love, and makes 
them objects of indifference, or worse. 

The cultivation of acquaintance before mar- 
riage, with a view to that connexion taking place, 
for the most part goes but a very little way towards 
the knowledge of real character. ‘The parties 
usually meet in the hey-day of inexperienced 
youth ; and while they exult in the unclouded sun- 
shine of life, their mutual endeavours to please, 
are rewarded by an equal willingness to be pleased. 
The woman, especially, is placed in a situation 
highly calculated to excite the greatest possible 
degree of complacency. She is treated by a being 


266 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


upon whom she depends, and he most probably 
her superior, as if she was incapable of error, and 
guiltless of a single fault. Perhaps she warns 
him of his mistake, speaks of her own defects, and 
assures him that she is not the angelic creature 
he supposes her to be; but she does all this with 
so sweet a grace, and looks all the while so pleased 
to be contradicted, that her information goes for 
nothing ; and we are by no means assured that she 
is not better satisfied it should be so. 

If, for instance, she really wishes him to know 
that her temper is naturally bad, why is she inva- 
riably so mild, and bland, and conciliating in his 
presence? If she wishes him to believe that she 
has a mind not capable of entering fully into the 
interest of his favourite books, and the subjects of 
his favourite discourse, why does she appear to 
listen so attentively when he reads, and ask so 
many questions calculated to draw him out into 
conversation? If she wishes him to suppose that 
she is not always a lively and agreeable com- 
panion, why does she not occasionally assume the 
tone and manner so familiar to her family at home 
—answer him shortly, hang down her head, and 
mope away the evening when he is near her? If 
she really wishes him to believe her, when she tells 
him that she is but ill-informed, and wanting in 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 267 


judgment; why, when he talks with her, does she 
take so much pains to express opinions generally 
believed to be correct, and especially such as coin- 
cide with hisown? If she occasionally acts from 
caprice, and really wishes him to know that she 
does so, to the injury of the comfort of those 
around her; why, whenever she practises in this 
way upon him, does she win him back again, 
and soothe his feelings with redoubled kindness, 
and additional solicitude to please. 

Perhaps she will tell me she acts in this man- 
ner, because it would be unamiable and ungene- 
rous to do otherwise. ‘To which I answer, If it 
be unamiable and ungenerous to the lover, how 
much more so must it be to the husband? I find 
no fault with the sweetness, the irresistible charm 
of her behaviour before marriage. It is no more 
than we ought to practise towards those whose 
happiness is bound up with ours. The falling off 
afterwards is what I regard as so much to be 
deplored in the character of woman; for where- 
ever this is observed, it seems to indicate that her 
mind has been low enough to be influenced by a 
desire of establishing herself in an eligible home, 
and escaping the stigma foolishly attached to the 
situation of an old maid. 

I have devoted an earlier di in this work 


268 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


to the consideration of dress and manners; but I 
have omitted one of the most: striking points of 
view in which these subjects can be regarded,— 
the different characters they sometimes assume 
before, and after marriage. 

When a young lady dresses with a view to 
general approbation, she is studiously solicitous 
to observe, what she believes to be, the rules of 
good taste; and more especially, if a gentleman, 
whose favourable opinion she values, evinces any 
decided symptoms of becoming her admirer. She 
then meets him with her hair arranged in the 
most becoming style; with the neat shoe, and 
pure-white gloves, which she has heard him com- 
mend in others; with the pale scarf, the quiet- 
coloured robe, and with the general aspect of her 
costume accommodated to his taste. He cannot 
but observe this regard to his wishes, and he notes 
it down as a proof of amiable temperament, as 
well as sympathy of habitual feeling. .Auguring 
well for his future happiness with a woman, who 
even in matters of such trifling moment is willing 
to make his wish her law, he prevails upon her 
at last to crown that happiness by the bestowment 
of her hand. 

In the course of three years, we look in upon: 
this couple in the home they are sharing together. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 269 


We suppose the lady to be the same, yet cannot 
feel quite sure, her whole appearance is so changed. 
The hair that used to be so carefully braided, or 
so gracefully curled, is now allowed to wander in 
dishevelled tresses, or swept away from a brow, 
whose defects it was wont to cover. There is a 
forlornness in her whole appearance, as if she had 
not, as formerly, any worthy object for which to 
study these secondary points of beauty ; and we 
inwardly exclaim hew the taste of her husband 
must have changed, to allow him to be pleased 
with what is so entirely the opposite of his original 
choice. On a second observation, however, we 
ask whether he actually 7s pleased, for there is 
nothing like satisfaction in the look with which 
he turns away from the unbecoming cap, the soiled 
kerchief, and the neglected aspect of the partner 
of his life. 

If married women, who allow themselves to fall 
into that state of moral degradation, which such 
an appearance indicates, feel pained at symptoms 
of estrangement in their husband’s affections, they 
must at least be satisfied to endure the conse- 
quences of their own want of consideration, without 
sympathy or commiseration. ‘They may, perhaps, 
feel disposed to say their punishment is too severe 
for such a fault. ‘They love their husbands as 


270 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


faithfully as ever, and expected from them a love 
that would have been more faithful in return, 
than to be shaken by any change in mere personal 
appearance. But let me tell them, that the change 
which owes its existence to our own fault, has a 
totally different effect upon the feelings of a friend. 
from that which is the consequence of our misfor- 
tune; and one of the most bitter and repulsive 
thoughts that can be made to rankle ina husband’s 
bosom, is, that his wife should only have deemed 
it necessary to charm his eye, until she had 
obtained his hand; and that, through the whole 
of his after life, he must look in vain for the exer- 
cise of that kind consideration in consulting his 
tastes and wishes, that used to lend so sweet a 
charm to the season of youthful intercourse. 

It is a subject well calculated to inspire the 
most serious regret, that men should practise, 
throughout the season of courtship, that system of 
indiscriminate flattery which lulls the better judg- 
ment of woman into a belief that she must of 
necessity be delightful to him—delightful, faults 
and all—nay, what is infinitely worse than this, 
into a secret suspicion, that the faults which her 
female friends have been accustomed to point out, 
have no existence in reality, and that to one who 
knows and loves her better, she must appear in 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 271 


her naturally amiable and attractive character. 
—Could she be persuaded, on that important day, 
when she is led home from the altar, adorned, 
attended upon, and almost worshipped—could she 
be persuaded to cast one impartial glance ito 
her own heart, she would see that the treasure 
she was bestowing, had many drawbacks from its 
value, and that all the happiness it was in her 
power to confer, must necessarily, from the nature 
of that heart, be accompanied with some alloy. 

‘Alas !” she would say, after this examination, 
“he knows me not. ‘Time will reveal to him my 
secretly cherished faults.” And when this con- 
viction was confirmed through the days and years 
of her after life, she would esteem it but a small 
sacrifice of time and patience to endeavour to 
render herself personally attractive to him. Nay, 
so grateful would she feel for his charitable for- 
giveness, that when the evil dispositions inherent 
in her nature were thrown into more glarihg light, 
she would esteem it a privilege to be able by the 
simplest means to convince him, that, with all her 
faults, she was not so guilty of a disregard to his 
wishes, as to refuse in these minor points to con- 
form her habits to his taste. 

Many of the remarks into which I have been 
led by a consideration of the subject of dress, are 


Pari. DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


equally applicable to that of manner, as relates to 
its connexion with social and domestic happiness 
before and after marriage. We are all aware that 
neither beauty, nor personal adornment, nor the 
most brilliant conversation, can be rendered alto- 
gether charming to any individual, without the 
accompaniment of a peculiar kind of manner, by 
which that individual is made to feel that he par- 
takes in the pleasant thoughts, and kind feelings, 
of the party whose object it is to please. 

Women who possess the tact, to know exactly 
how to give pleasure, are peculiarly skilled in 
those earnest looks, and cheerful smiles, and 
animated responses, which constitute more than 
half the charm of society. We sometimes see, 
in social evening circles, the countenance of an 
intelligent young lady lighted up with such a look 
of deep and glowing interest, as to render her 
perfectly beautiful, during the time she is ad- 
dressed by a distinguished friend, or. even an 
attractive stranger. 

I will not say that the same expression 18 not 
always worn by the same individual at the do- 
mestic hearth, when she listens to the conversa- 
tion of her husband. I will not so far libel my 
countrywomen, because I know that there are 
noble and admirable instances of women who are 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 2738 


too diffident and too simple-hearted to study how 
to shine in public, who yet, from the intensity 
of their own feelings, the brilliance of their own 
powers of perception, and the deep delight of 
listening to the gentle tones of a beloved voice, 
when it speaks at once to their understanding 
and their hearts.—I know that such women do 
wear an aspect of almost spiritual beauty, and. 
speak and act with an almost superhuman grace, 
when no eye beholds them but that which is most 
familiar, and which is destined to look upon the 
same path of life with theirs. 

After acknowledging these instances, I must 
suppose a case; and for the sake of argument 
imagine what would be the feelings of a husband, 
who, in mixed society, should see his wife the 
centre of an animated group—pleased herself, and 
giving pleasure to all around her—the expression 
of intense interest depicted on her countenance, 
and mingled with an apprehension so lively and 
vivid, as almost to amount to presentiment of every 
probable turn in the discourse; her eyes lighted 
up with animation, and her cheeks dimpled over 
with the play of sunny smiles—what would be the 
feelings of a husband who should have marked all 
this, and when at his own fireside he felt the want 
of pleasant converse to beguile the winter’s even- 

N 


274 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


ing of its length, should be answered by that 
peculiar tone of voice, that depression of coun- 
tenance, and that forbidding manner, which are 
more powerful in imposing silence than the most 
imperative command ? 

In fact, there is a manner all-powerful in its 
influence upon domestic happiness, in which there 
seems to be embodied a spirit of evil too subtile 
for detection, and too indefinite to be described 
by any name. It is not precisely a sullen man- 
ner, nor, in its strictest sense, a repulsive manner: 
for the individual who adopts it may be perfectly 
civil all the while. It does not consist in pointed 
insult, or, indeed, in any thing pointed. It con- 
veys no reproach, nor suffers the party upon 
whom it operates to suppose that redress is the 
thing desired. It invites no explanation, and 
makes no complaint. Its only visible charac- 
teristic is, that the eye is never raised to gaze 
upon its object, but invariably directed past it, 
as if that object had no ubiquity—in short, 
had no existence, and was not required to have 
any. 

This is the manner I should describe as most 
expressive of natural antipathy without the energy 
of active dislike; and yet this manner, as before 
stated, is so potent in its influence, that it seems 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 975 


to lay, as it were, an unseen axe at the root of 
all domestic confidence; and, difficult as it must 
necessarily be for a woman to maintain this man- 
ner, there have been instances in which it has 
destroyed a husband’s peace, without affording 
him even the satisfaction of any definite cause of 
complaint. ‘There are degrees of the same man- 
ner practised every day in all classes of society, 
but never without a baneful effect, in poisoning 
our kindly feelings, and decreasing the sum of 
human happiness. 

We are all too much disposed to put on what 
I would describe as company-manners. Not only 
are our best dresses reserved for our visiters, but 
our best behaviour too. I have often been struck 
with the bland smiles that have been put on in 
welcoming guests, and the appearance of extreme 
interest with which such guests have been listened 
to; when, five minutes after their departure, the 
same subject having been taken up by some unfor- 
tunate member of the family, no interest whatever 
has been elicited, no smile awakened, and scarcely 
so much as a patient and respectful answer drawn 
forth. I have observed, also, with what forbearance 
the absurdities of a stranger have been endured: 
the twice-told tale, when begun again in company, 
has apparently been as fresh and entertaining as 


tt) 


76 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


the first time it was heard. The folly of ignorance 
has then had no power to disgust, nor the imperti- 
nence of curiosity to offend. 

When I have marked all this, I have thought, 
If we could but carry away our company-smiles to 
the home fireside, speak always in the gentle and 
persuasive tones made use of in the evening 
party, and move along the domestic walk with 
that suayvity of manner which characterises our 
intercourse with what is called society,—how 
pleasant would those homes become to the friends 
who look for their hours of refreshment and re- 
laxation there; and how seldom should we have 
to complain of our companionship being neglected 
for that of more brilliant circles and more inter- 
esting scenes ! 

In writing on the subject of consideration and 
kindness before and after marriage, I have pur- 
posely confined my remarks to a very slight and 
superficial view of the subject. ‘The world that 
lies beyond, I cannot regard as within the pro- 
vince of my pen—I might almost say, within the 
province of any pen: for such is the difference 
in human character, and in the circumstances 
by which character is developed, that it would 
scarcely be possible to speak definitely of a line 
of conduct by which the lives of any two married 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. O77 


women could properly be regulated, because such 
conduct must bear strict reference to the habits 
and temperament of the husband, whose pecu- 
liarities of character would have to be taken into 
account. 

I must therefore be satisfied to recommend this 
wide and important field of contemplation to the 
serious attention and earnest solicitude of my 
countrywomen; reminding them, only, before we 
leave this subject, that if, in the first instance, 
they are induced by selfish feeling to consult their 
immediate interest or convenience, they are, in a 
secondary manner, undermining their own happi- 
ness by failing to consult that of the being whose 
destiny is linked with theirs. ek 

What pen can describe the wretchedness of that 
woman, who finds herself doomed to live unloved; 
and to whom can she lock for confidence and 
affection, if shut out from the natura! sources of 
enjoyment at home? ‘There is no loneliness— 
there can be none, in all the waste or peopled 
deserts of this world, bearing the slightest com- 
parison with that of an unloved wife? She 
stands amidst her family like a living statue 
amongst the marble memorials of the dead— 
instinct with life, yet paralyzed with death—the 
burning tide of natural feeling circling round her 


278 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


heart —the thousand channels frozen, priate 
which that feeling ought to flow. 

So pitiable, so utterly destitute of consolation 
is this state, to which many women have reduced 
themselves by mere carelessness of the common 
and familiar means of giving pleasure, that I 
must be pardoned for writing on this subject 
with more earnestness than the minuteness of its 
detail would seem to warrant. We may set off 
in life with high notions of loving, and of being 
loved, in exact proportion to meritorious desert, 
as exemplified in great and noble deeds. But 
on a closer and more experimental view of human 
life, we find that affection is more dependent 
upon the minutiz of every-day existence; and 
that there is a greater sum of affection really lost, 
by filtering away through the failure of seeming 
trifles, than by the shock of great events. 

We are apt also to deceive ourselves with 
regard to the revival of affection after its decay. 
Much may be done to restore equanimity of 
mind, to obtain forgiveness, and to be reinstated 
in esteem; but I am inclined to think, that when 
once the bloom of love is gone—when it has been 
brushed away by too rude or too careless a hand, 
it would be as vain to attempt to restore it, 
as to raise again the blighted fiower, or give 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 9279 


‘wings to the butterfly which the storm had beaten 
down. 

How important is it, then, that women should 
guard, with the most scrupulous attention, this 
treasure of their hearts,—this blessing of their 
homes; and since we are so constituted, that 
trifles make the sum of human happiness, that 
they should lose no opportunity of turning these 
trifles to the best account. 

Besides these considerations, there is one awful 
and alarming fact connected with this subject, 
which ought to be indelibly impressed upon our 
minds; it is, that we have but a short time, it 
may be but a very short time, allowed us for 
promoting the comfort or the happiness of our fel- 
low-creatures. Even if we ourselves are spared 
to reach the widest range of human existence, 
how few of those we love will number half that 
length of years! Even the hand that is clasped 
in ours, the eyes that reflect the intelligence of 
our souls, and the heart that beats an echo to 
every pulse we feel, may be cold and motionless 
before to-morrow’s sun has set! 

Were the secrets of every human bosom laid 
open, I believe we should behold no darker pass- 
age in the page of experience, than that which 
has noted down our want of kindness and consi- 


280 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


deration to those who are gone before us to 
another world. 

When we realize the agonizing sensation of 
bending over the feeble frame of a beloved friend, 
when the mortal conflict is approaching, and the 
fluttering spirit is about to leave its earthly tene- 
ment; and looking back upon a long, dark past, 
all blotted over with instances of our unkindness 
or neglect, and forward unto that little span of 
life, into which we would fain concentrate the 
deep affection, that, in spite of inconsistencies in 
our past conduct, has all the while been cherished 
in our hearts,—with what impassioned earnest- 
ness would we arrest the pale messenger in his 
career, and stay the wings of time, and call upon 
the impatient spirit to return, to see, and feel, and 
understand our love. 

Perhaps we have been negligent in former sea- 
sons of bodily affliction ; have not listened patiently 
to the outpouring of natural feeling, and have held 
ourselves excused from attendance in the sick- 
chamber ; and there has gone forth that awful sen- 
tence, “It is the last time!” the last time we can 
offer the cordial draught, or smooth the restless 
pillow, or bathe the feverish brow! And now, 
though we would search all the treasures of the 
earth for healing medicine, and rob ourselves of 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 281 


sleep, and rest, and sustenance, to purchase for 
the sufferer one hour of quiet slumber, and pour 
our tears upon that aching brow, until its burning 
heat was quenched ;—it is in vain, for the eye 1s 
glazed, the lips are paralyzed, the head begins to 
droop, and expiring nature tells us it is all feo 
late ! 

Perhaps we have not been sympathizing, kind, 
or tender, in those by-gone years of familiar confi- 
dence, when we were called upon to share the 
burdens of a weary bosom, whose inner feelings 
were revealed to us, and us alone. Yes, we 
can remember, in the sunny days of youth, and 
through the trials of maturer life, when the appeals 
of affection were answered with fretfulness or cap- 
tious spleen, when estrangement followed, and we 
could not, if we had desired it, then draw back the 
love we had repulsed. And now we hear again 
that awful sentence—“ It is the last time !’—the 
last time we can ever weep upon that bosom, or 
lay our hand upon that head, or press a fond, 
fond kiss upon those closing lips. ‘ain would we 
then throw open the flood-gates of our hidden 
feeling, and pour forth words of more than tender- 
ness. Alas! the once wished-for tide would flow, 
like the rising surf around a shattered wreck— 
too late. 

N 2 


232 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


Perhaps we have been guilty of a deeper sin 
against our heavenly Father, and the human 
family whose happiness he has in some measure 
committed to our trust. And oh! let the young 
ask diligently of the more experienced, how they 
can escape the aching consciousness that may 
pursue them to the grave, and only then com- 
mence the reality of its eternal torment—the 
consciousness of having wasted all our influence, 
and neglected all our means of assisting those who 
were associated with us by the closest ties, in 
preparing for another and a better world. 

Perhaps they once sought our society for the 
benefit of spiritual communion. Perhaps they 
would have consulted us in cases of moral difficulty, 
had we been more gracious and conciliating. Per- 
haps we have treated lightly the serious seruples 
they have laid before us, or, what is still more 
probable, perhaps the whole tenour of our incon- 
sistent lives has been the means of drawing them 
away from the altar, on which they saw such 
unholy incense burning. And now, “it is the last 
time”—the last time we can ever speak to them 
of eternity, of the state of their trembling souls 
before the eye of a just and holy God, or raise 
their fainting hopes to the mercy still offered to 
their acceptance, through Him who is able to save 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 283 


to the uttermost. Oh! for the trumpet of an 
archangel, to awake them from the increasing 
torpor of bodily and spiritual death. Oh! for a 
voice that would embody in one deep, awful, and 
tremendous word, all—all for which our wasted 
life was insufficient! It is in vain that we would 
call upon the attributes of nature and of Deity to 
aid us. They are gone! It was the final struggle; 
and never more will that pale marble form be 
roused to life by words of hope or consolation 
They are gone. The portals of eternity are closed 
—It is too late. 

Let it be a subject of grateful acknowledgment 
with the young, that to them this fearful sentence 
has not yet gone forth—that opportunity may still 
be offered them to redeem the time. They know 
not, however, how much of this time remains 
at their disposal; and it might occasionally be 
some assistance to them in their duties, would 
they cultivate the habit of thinking, not only 
of their own death, but of the death of their 
companions. 

There are few subjects more calculated for 
solemn and affecting thought, than the fact that 
we can scarcely meet a blooming circle around a 
cheerful hearth, but one individual at least, in that 


284 DOMESTIC HABITS OF 


circle, will be cherishing in her bosom the seeds 
of some fatal malady. 

It is recorded of the Egyptians, that amongst 
their ancient customs they endeavoured to pre- 
serve the salutary remembrance that they were 
liable to death, by placing at their festal boards, 
a human skeleton; so that while they feasted, and 
enjoyed the luxuries of this life, they should find’ 
it impossible to beguile themselves into a belief 
in its perpetual duration. | 

It is not necessary that we should resort to 
means so unnatural and repulsive ; though the end 
is still more desirable for us, who are trusting in 
a better hope, to keep in view. Neither is it 
necessary that the idea should be invested with 
melancholy, and associated with depression. It 
is but looking at the truth. And let us deceive 
ourselves as we may, the green church-yard with _ 
its freshly-covered graves—the passing-bell—the 
slowly-moving hearse—the shutters closed upon 
the apartment where the sound of merriment was 
lately heard—the visitations of disease within our 
homes—even the hectic flush of beauty—all 
remind us that the portion of time allotted for the 
exercise of kindly’ feeling towards our fellow- 
creatures, is fleeting fast away; and that to-day, if 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 285 


ever, we must prove to the Great Shepherd of the 
christian fold, that we are not regardless of that 
memorable injunction— By this shall all men 
know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one 
to another. 


236 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


CHAPTER XI. 


SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND — 
CAPRICE—-AFFECTATION—LOVE OF ADMIRATION. 


Tue higher admiration we bestow upon the nature 
and attributes of any subject of contemplation, the 
more painful and acute is our perception of its 
defects. And thus when we think of woman in 
her most elevated character, consider the extent 
of her capabilities, and her wonderful and almost 
unfailing power of being great on great occasions, 
we are the more disposed to regret that she has a 
power equally unlimited, of making herself little ; 
and that, when indolence or selfishness is allowed 
to prevail over her better feelings, this power is 
often exercised to the annoyance of society, and 
to her own disgrace. 

Those who understand the construction of 
woman’s mind, however, will find some excuse for 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 287 


this, in the natural versatility of her mental facul- 
ties, in the multiplicity of her floating ideas, in 
the play of her fancy, and in the constant over- 
. flow of her feelings, which must expend themselves 
upon some object, either worthy or unworthy; and 
which consequently demand the utmost attention 
to what is really important, in order that this 
waste of energy, of feeling, and emotion, may be 
avoided. 

The word caprice, in its familiar acceptation, is 
one of very indefinite signification. I shall en- 
deavour to confine my use of it to those cases in 
which the whim of the moment is made the rule 
of action, without any reference to right reason, or 
even to the gratification or annoyance of others ; 
and I shall endeavour to show, that with regard to 
this feminine fault, as well as many others, women 
are not fairly dealt with by society. 

How often do we see, for instance, a beautiful 
and fascinating girl expressing the most absurd 
antipathies, or sympathies, and acting in the most 
self-willed and irrational manner; in short, per- 
forming a part, which, in a plain woman, would be 
regarded not only as repulsive, but unamiable in 
the utmost degree; yet because she is beautiful, 
her admirers appear to think all these little freaks 
of fancy highly becoming, and captivating in the 


288 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


extreme. If she chooses to find fault with what 
all the rest of the company are admiring—how 
delightfully peculiar are her tastes! If she will 
walk out when others are not disposed for walk- 
ine—what obsequious attendants she immediately 
finds, all ready to say the evening is fine, the air 
inviting, and the general aspect of nature exactly 
what she chooses it should be! If she persists 
in refusing to play a favourite air—what a dear 
capricious creature she always is! and in this, as 
well as all other whims, she must be humoured to 
the extent of her selfishness. 

I will not pretend to say that beauty alone can 
command this influence, though it unquestionably 
has a power beyond all calculation. The being 
who thus assumes the right to tyrannize, must 
have obtained the suffrages of society by the exer- 
cise of some particular powers of fascination, 
which she wants the judgment and good feeling 
to use for better purposes. 

We have seen her, then, a sort of idol in society, 
the centre of an admiring circle, endowed with 
the royal privilege of incapability of doing wrong. 
We have seen her admired, apparently beloved; 
aud we turn to the little coteries of dissentients 
who are sure to be formed in all companies where 
a being of this description is found. Amongst 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 289 


these we find that her character is treated, not 
with justice, though that had been enough, but 
with the sharp inspection of keen and envious 
eyes ; and we are soon convinced, that if in public 
she is raised to the distinction of an idol, she is 
in private most unscrupulously deprived of the 
honours she was but too willing to assume. 

I speak not of this instance, in order to bring 
forward the want of charity and kindly feeling 
prevailing in the world. I simply state that such 
things are,—in order to show that the deference 
paid to the caprices of women by a few partial 
admirers, is no real test of the favour they obtain 
in general society. And if, in such instances 
where youth.and beauty cast their lovely mantle 
over every defect, woman’s faults are still brought 
to light, what must be her situation—what her 
treatment by the world, where she has nothing of 

kind to palliate her weakness, or recommend 
her to the charity and forbearance of her fellow- 
creatures. 

Caprice, like many other feminine faults, ap- 
pears almost too trifling in its minutiae—too insig- 
nificant in its detail, to deserve our serious con- 
demnation; yet, if caprice has the power to make 
enemies, and to destroy happiness, it ought not 
to be regarded as unimportant in itself. With 


290 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


regard to many other subjects of consideration 
connected with the virtues or the errors of woman, 
we have had to observe, that each individual act 
may be almost beneath our notice in itself, and 
yet may form a part of such a whole, as the 
utmost capabilities of human intellect would be 
unable to treat with justice and effect. 

The case is precisely the same with feminine 
caprice. It is but a slight deviation either from 
sense or propriety, to choose to differ from the 
majority of opinions, to choose to do, and to make 
others do, what is not agreeable to them, or to 
refuse to do what would give them pleasure. 
But, when this mode of conduct becomes habitual, 
when beauty fades, and the idol of society is cast 
into the shade, when disappointment irritates the 
temper, and “ sickness rends the brow,” and grief 
sits heavily upon the soul—in these seasons of 
nature’s weakness, when woman’s trembling heart 
is apt to sink within her, to what loneliness and 
bitterness of experience must she be consigned, if 
her own indulgence of caprice has driven from her 
all the friends who might have administered to 
her consolation in this hour of need. 

This view. of the subject, however, she is cer- 
tainly at liberty to take, and, counting the cost, 
to indulge her momentary wishes at the expense 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND, 29] 


of her future peace. The question of most seri- 
ous importance, is, how far we are justified in 
trifling with the happiness, the comfort, or even 
the convenience of others, for the sake of indulg- 
ing our own caprices? 

I have before stated, that in acting from ca- 
price, we act without reference to common sense, 
or right feeling. If, therefore, a woman chooses 
to be capricious, there is no help for it. Argu- 
ment has no power to convince her that she is 
wrong, and opposition only strengthens her deter- 
mination: no matter how many are made to suf- 
fer annoyance from her folly, or grief from her 
perverseness. It zs her choice to be capricious, 
and they must abide by the consequences. ‘Thus 
she exemplifies—it may be said in actions ex- 
tremely minute and unimportant—but still she 
does exemplify, how much mischief may be done 
by a weak judgment, a selfish temper, and an 
unenlightened mind. 

The domestic habits and social intercourse of 
the women of England, are peculiarly favourable 
to the counteraction of the natural tendency to 
caprice in the female character, because they 
afford a supply of constant occupation, and invest 
that occupation with the dignity of moral duty. 
When, therefore, we find individuals acting from 


992 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


eaprice, In the middle classes of Enguish society, 
we know that it exists in spite of circumstances ; 
and-we consequently regard with proportionate 
condemnation, those who are so far deficient in 
good taste, and good feeling, as to prefer such a 
mode of exhibiting their follies to the world. 

It might require some degree of philosophical 
examination, accurately to define the nature and 
origin of caprice; yet so far as I have been able 
to ascertain by observations upon society in gene- 
ral, I should be inclined to describe it as arising 
from the same cause as affectation; and both to 
owe their existence to a desire to attract atten- 
tion, or a belief that attention is attracted by what. 
is said or done. Caprice refers more to a weak 
and vain desire to be important; affectation, to a 
desire to make ourselves admired. Both are con- 
temptible in the extreme. Yet one is so powerful 
in provoking the temper, the other in exciting 
ridicule and disgust, that both are worthy of our 
careful examination, in order that we may detect 
the lurking evil wherever it exists in our own 
conduct. 

Affectation is in practice a species of minute 
deception; in effect, a palpable mockery of that 
which is assumed. I am aware that it is often 
the accompaniment of extreme bashfulness and 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 293 


diffidence of self; but this is seldom or never the 
case, except where there is a secret, yet strong 
desire, if it were possible, to be the object of 
admiration to others. Along with affectation, there 
is generally a prevailing impression of being the 
object upon which all, or at least many eyes are 
fixed. For who would be at the trouble of all 
those distortions of countenance, inflexions of 
voice, and manceuvrings of body and limb, which 
we often observe in company, did they not believe 
themselves to be 


“ The observed of all observers” ? 


If by thinking too meanly of ourselves, we are 
overwhelmed with humiliation in public, and tor- 
mented with dissatisfaction in private, it is clear 
that there is as much vanity and selfishness in this 
depreciation of our own character, as in the more 
exalted and comfortable inflation of conceit. The 
only difference is,—in one case we are piqued and 
wounded that we cannot be admired; in the other, 
we believe ourselves to be admired when we are 
not. 

The suffering produced by this kind of vanity, 
is generally accompanied both with affectation and 
bashfulness; but we must not suppose, because a 
blush suffuses the countenance, and the out- 


294 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


stretched hand is seen to tremble, that the indi- 
vidual who is guilty of this breach of fashionable 
indifference, is necessarily free from vanity, or 
guiltless of a desire to be admired. 

Those who have travelled much, and seen much 
of the world, are generally cured both of bashful- 
ness and affectation, by one of these two causes,— 
either they have been so often in company without 
making any impression, that they have learned of 
how little importance it is to society in what man- 
ner they behave, or how they look; or they have 
learned a still more useful lesson, that the admira- 
tion of man, even in its fullest sense, goes but a 
little way towards satisfying the heart. 

The affectation most frequently detected in the 
behaviour of women, is that which arises from an 
inordinate desire of being agreeable. A certain 
degree of this desire is unquestionably of great 
service in preserving them from the moral degra- 
dation which I have before alluded to, as attach- 
ing to personal neglect—as indicating a low state 
of mind wherever it exists, and procuring a low 
degree of estimation for the individual who thus 
allows her negligence to gain the ascendancy over 
her good taste. 

On the other hand, what may with propriety be 
called an inordinate desire to be admired, when it 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 295 


takes the place of higher motives and principles of 
action, is perhaps a more fertile source both of 
folly and of suffering, than any other which ope- 
rates upon the life and conduct of woman. As 
exhibited through the single medium of affectation, 
it is so varied in its character, and so unbounded 
in its sphere of operation, that to attempt to 
describe it in detail would require volumes, rather 
than pages: I shall therefore confine my remarks 
to that species of affectation which is the most 
prevalent in the present day. 

As the peculiar kind of merit assumed by the 
hypocrite is, in some measure, a test of what is 
most popular and most approved in society; so 
the prevailing affectation of the day, is an indica- 
tion of the taste of the times—of the general tone 
of public feeling, and of the tendency of private 
habits. That which most recommends itself to the 
acceptance and adoption of the young ladies of the 
present day, is an affectation of refinement—not 
refinement of feeling as relates to the means pos- 
sessed by every human being, of increasing plea- 
sure and alleviating pain, in the circle of friends 
or relatives by which they are surrounded; but 
refinement of self, so that the individual who 
has attained to this degree of elevation, shall be 
exempt from all personal obligations, particularly 


296 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


such as would render her instrumental in the per- 
formance of social and domestic services amongst 
her fellow-creatures. Women who affect this kind 
of refinement, are extremely fastidious in all that 
relates to manual employment, They cannot éouch 
the coarse material that supplies our bodily wants, 
or constitutes our personal comfort. ‘They loathe 
the very mention of those culmary compounds, 
which nevertheless their fair lips condescend to 
admit; and they shrink with horror from the vulgar 
notion that the old grandmother-duties of pre- 
paring a clean hearth, and a comfortable fireside, 
for a husband or a brother, could by any possibi- 
lity devolve upon them. 

For this kind of affectation, however, there is 
some excuse in our natural indolence; and in the 
exemption it procures from personal exertion ; but 
when we see the absolute pains which some of the 
same individuals will take to make themselves 
appear dependent, useless, and wholly inadequate 
to self-preservation, we are startled with a new 
idea, and entirely at a loss to account for this 
phenomenon in human nature. 

It is with difficulty I admit the belief that women 
are in reality the victims of all those foolish fears, 
with which they profess to be annoyed, and with 
which they unquestionably are very successful in 


+, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 297 


annoying others. It is with difficulty I admit this 
belief, because I see—and see with admiration, 
that some of the most delicate women, the most 
sensitively alive to impression, and the most sus- 
ceptible both of pleasure and pain, can, when called 
upon by duty, and actuated by principle, set all - 
these idle fears aside, and dare to do what man 
would almost shrink from. I cannot therefore 
divest myself of all suspicion, that a little of this 
feminine timidity is sometimes assumed, and a 
great deal of it encouraged, for the sake of effect 
—for the sake of making it appear to society that 
the individual who acts this part, is too refined to 
have ever been accustomed to the rough usages of 
common life. 

I say this with all charity, and with much com- 
passion for those whose bodily and mental con- 
formation does really render them the victims of 
causeless fear; and when we see such persons 
endeavouring to subdue their timidity, ashamed of 
it as a weakness, and especially solicitous for it 
not to interfere with the comfort or convenience 
of others, they justly claim, not only our sympathy, 
but our admiration. Itis the display of terror that 
I would speak of in terms which can scarcely be 
too contemptuous—the becoming start, the modu- 
lated shriek, the studied appeal for manly protec- 

Oo 


298 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


tion, and all that elaboration of feminine delicacy, 
which it sometimes appears to be the business of 
a life to exhibit. 

Besides this kind of affectation, I will mention 
another species, if possible still more unaccount- 
able in its nature and cause. It is the affectation 
of ignorance respecting common things. It is by 
no means unusual with young ladies to appear to 
plume themselves upon not knowing how any 
familiar or ordinary thing is made or done. ‘They 
refuse to understand anything about machinery, 
and bring into their conversation, what they seem 
to regard as the most entertaining blunders, when- 
ever conversation turns upon the occupations of 
the labouring classes. The same individuals sel- 
dom know the way to any place, are incapable of 
‘discovering whether their faces are turned to the 
north or the south; and if you ask them with any 
idea of receiving an answer, from what quarter the 
wind is blowing, you might as well expect them 
to tell you whether the tide is at that moment 
rising in Nootka sound. 

If any of these confessions of ignorance, when 
forced upon them, were attended with embarrass- 
ment or shame, they would claim our sisterly 
compassion; and sorry should I be to make their 
blushes the subject of public remark. But when 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND, 299 


we find this ignorance persisted in, made conspi- 
cuous on every possible occasion, and attended 
with 
“‘nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles,” 

as if it wete sure to meet with a favourable recep- 
tion in society, we cannot withhold the exclamation 
of our patriot poet, that from our souls we “loathe 
all affectation.” 

It is evident that this helplessness, and this 
ignorance, where they are assumed, must be so 
for the purpose of attracting attention, claiming 
assistance, it may be, from the other sex, and 
establishing an unquestionable claim to refine- 
ment, by giving forth to society an idea of habits 
of exclusion, from all vulgar or degrading asso- 
ciation. 

It is difficult to imagine a mode of life, or a 
combination of circumstances, less advantageous 
to the cultivation of such false notions of refine- 
ment, than those which are presented by the real 
situation of the women of England; and it is im- 
possible not to look, with gloomy anticipations for 
the future welfare of our country, upon the increas- 
ing prevalence of these erroneous ideas of what is 
really excellent and admirable in the female cha- 
racter. 

The view we have taken of the subjects at pre- 


300 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


sent under consideration, naturally leads us to that 
great root of more than half the folly and the 
misery existing amongst women—the love of 
admiration. 

The extreme case, of a woman totally indifferent 
to the good opinion of her fellow-creatures, would 
fail to recommend itself to our regard, inasmuch 
as it would argue a deficiency in her nature, of 
those feelings which have been given her as a 
means of happiness to herself and benefit to 
others. She would stand amidst her fellow- 
creatures a lonely and isolated being, living and 
acting without reference to the existence of any 
other being; and if she escaped the thousand dis- 
appointments of those who act from opposite 
motives, she would be equally exempt from any 
claim upon their affection. 

Such individuals, however, are so rare, that the » 
consideration of their peculiarities would be a 
fruitless waste of time and thought. It is to the 
opposite extreme of character that our attention 
must now be given. And here I would request 
the reader to bear in mind, that my remarks refer 
strictly to the love of admiration, not to the love 
of approbation, which I take to be a natural and 
lawful stimulus to all that is excellent in female 
conduct. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. ool 


When we look upon human life with “ critical 
inspection,” we find that a vast proportion of the 
apparent motives acted upon before the world, 
are not the real motives by which the individual 
actors are influenced; and that this system of 
deception is often carried on unconsciously to 
them, because they are themselves betrayed by the 
deceitfulness of their own hearts. In no instance is 
this more strikingly the case than in our love of 
admiration. ‘lo gratify this desire, what suffering 
are we not willing to endure, what pains do we 
not take, what patience can we not exercise; and 
all under the most plausible pretences—pretences 
that impose upon others less effectually than our- 
selves, that we are acting upon higher and more 
praiseworthy principles. There is this difference, 
however, to be observed between acting from 
worthy and unworthy motives: when our endea- 
yours are unsuccessful and our motives correct, we 
seldom give way to the fretfulness of disappoint- 
ment; but when our endeavours are ineffectual, 
and we look back into our own hearts, and find 
them unsupported by any laudable object, our 
fretfulness is often exasperated into bitterness and 
spleen. 

Observation and experience have taught me to 
believe that many of the secret sorrows of woman's 


302 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


life, owe half their poignancy to the disappoint- 
ment of not being able to obtain the degree of 
admiration which has been studiously sought. A 
popular and elegant writer has said—* How often 
do the wounds of our vanity form the secret of our 
pathos!” And to the situation, and the feelings 
of woman, this observation is more especially 
applicable. Still, there is much to be said for 
woman in this respect. By the nature of her own 
feelings, as well as by the established rules of 
polished life, she is thrown, as it were, upon the 
good-will of society. Unable to assert her own 
claims to protection, she must endeavour to ensure 
it by secondary means, and she knows that the 
protection of man is best ensured by recommend- 
ing herself to his admiration. 

Nor is this all. There is but a faint line of 
demarkation between admiration and love. Though — 
essentially different in their nature, and not always 
called forth by the same individual, their outward 
aspect is still so much alike, and there is so fre- 
quent a transition made from the one to the other, 
that it requires more able reasoning than the 
generality of women are capable of, to know exactly 
when they are exciting admiration, and when they 
are inspiring love. ‘There is, however, one infallible 
test by which the case may be decided, and I can- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 303 


not too earnestly recommend to my counfrywomen 
to apply it to themselves. If they are admired 
without being beloved, they may possibly be 
favourites in company abroad, but they will be no 
favourites at home—they may obtain the good- 
will of a mere acquaintance, but they will be soli- 
tary and neglected at their own fireside. If they 
are cultivating such habits as are calculated to 
make them really beloved, especially at home, they 
may retire from company in which they have been 
wholly overlooked, to find the warmest welcome 
of the domestic circle awaiting their return—they 
may not be able to create any perceptible sensa- 
tion when they appear in public, but every familiar 
countenance around their social hearth will be 
lighted up with smiles when they appear. 

With regard to the love of admiration, it is much 
to be regretted that all women who make this one 
of the chief objects of their lives, do not at the same 
time evince an equal solicitude to be admired for 
what is really praiseworthy. Were this the case, 
they would at least be employed in cultivating 
useful habits; and as the student who aims at 
obtaining a prize, even if he fails in that direct 
object, has obtained what is more desirable, in the 
power of application which he has made himself 
master of; so the woman who aims at moral excel- 


304 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


lence, if the taste of society is too vitiated to receive 
with admiration the first impression her character 
is calculated to make, has yet acquired such habits 
as will prove an inestimable treasure throughout 
the whole of her after life. 

We do not, however, see that this is the case 
so much as might be desired in modern society. 
There is an appearance amongst the women of the 
present day, of being too eager for an immediate 
tribute of admiration, to wait for the developement 
of moral worth ; and thus they cultivate those more 
shining accomplishments, which dazzle and de- 
light for the moment, but leave no materials for 
agreeable reflection behind. Like the conducter 
of an exhibition of fire-works, they play off their 
splendid combinations of light and colour ; but the 
magazine is soon expended, and. the scene closes 
with weariness, and vacuity, and the darkness of ~ 
night. 

What a waste of time, and means, and applica- 
tion, for such a result! What an expenditure of 
thought and feeling, to have produced this momen- 
tary display! Surely no philanthropist can behold 
unmoved the pitiful objects for which women who 
court the incense of admiration, are spending their 
lives. Surely none of the patriot sons of Britain 
can look on, and see with indifference the sisters, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 305 


the wives, the mothers, of our English homes, 
perpetually employed, even in a world of care 
and suffering, of anxiety and disappointment, in 
administering to the momentary gratification of 
the eye and the ear, while the heart is left unsa- 
tisfied, and the drooping soul uncheered. 

The desire of being beloved is an ambition of a 
far more amiable and praiseworthy character. But 
who shall record the endless variety of suffering 
it entails upon woman? I will not believe of my 
sex, that it 1s the love of admiration only, which 
gives birth to all those rivalries and mortifications 
—that envy, and spleen, and bitterness, which 
mar the felicity of female companionship. It 
must be some deeper feeling; and I at least will 
give them credit for being wounded in a tenderer 
point than their vanity, before they can so far 
do violence to their gentler nature, as to revenge 
upon each other the slights and the humiliations 
they receive. 

Yes: itis to human calculation the most pardon- 
able, and yet it is the most soul-besetting sin of 
woman, to be perpetually investing earthly objects 
with an interest too intense for her own happiness ; 
and asking of some oracle she has herself estab- 
lished, for an answer to the language of her own 
heart. J.et her seek as she may, the admiration and 


OnZ 


306 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


applause of the world, it never satisfies the craving 
of her soul. She must have something to come 
home to—a shelter even in the brightest sunshine 
—a bower in the fairest garden—a shrine within 
the richest temple. She cannot mingle with the 
stream of life, and float securely on, as one 
amongst the many. She will not even be exalted 
in solitary distinction. ‘The world has no wealth 
to offer, that she would possess alone. 

This is the true nature of woman; and the home 
she seeks is in the hearts of those who are bound 
to her by affection. She knows that her place in 
this homeis not to be maintained without unceasing 
care; and hence the solicitude she bestows upon. 
things of triflmg moment. She knows also that in 
some instances she is liable to be supplanted; she 
feels, perhaps, that she is not worthy to monopolize 
so honourable a place ; and hence her watchfulness 
and jealousy. It may be that she is “ disearded 
thence,” for human love is sometimes treacherous ; 
and hence her wounded spirit, and the oecasional 
outpouring of natural feeling, by which she brings 
upon herself the odium of bitterness and revenge. 

Thus the darkest faults of woman may often be 
traced back to those peculiarities of her nature, 
which, under favouring circumstances, and with 
the Divine blessing, may constitute her highest 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 307 


recommendation, and surest source of happiness. 
How important is it, then, since to woman it is 
essential to be loved, that she should not expect 
to reap where she has never sown, and thus incur 
the most painful disappointment to which her suf- 
fering nature is liable ! 

With regard to the anxiety to be admired, ther, 
I would propose that approve should be substituted 
for admire, and just so far as women seek the 
approval of their friends, under the guidance of 
religious truth, there is every reason to believe they 
will reap an abundant reward. With regard to the 
desire to be beloved, I can only repeat, that the 
women of England are peculiarly blessed in the 
means they possess of rendering themselves esti- 
mable in society; and the opportunities they enjoy 
of cultivating the kindest and happiest feelings 
of our nature. ‘They have the homes of England 
in their keeping; and the hearts within those 
homes must necessarily be attracted or repelled by 
the light or the shade which their presence diffuse: 
around them. ‘They cannot complain that circum- 
stances are against them in the attainment of mora! 
worth. All the natural characteristics of their 
native country are in their favour. The happiness 
of the whole human family, and especially of man, 
supplies them with a never-failing motive. Nature 


308 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF 


and religion are both on their side—the one to 
prompt, the other to lure them on. They have the 
gratitude of their fellow-creatures awaiting their 
endeavours—and what is more, they have the gra- 
cious approval of their heavenly Father, as their 
encouragement and reward. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 309 


CHAPTER XII. 


PUBLIC OPINION——PECUNIARY RESOURCES— 
INTEGRITY. 


THE respect paid by women to public opinion, 
and to the conventional rules of society, might 
have been considered with some propriety under 
the head of love of admiration, did not the im- 
mediate connexion of this subject with that of 
integrity, render it more suited to the present 
chapter. | 

To use a popular Germanism, it is but a one- 
sided view of the subject that we take, when we 
suppose that the hope of being admired is the 
strongest stimulus to the female character in all 
cases where her conduct is referred to public 
opinion. The dread of being censured or con- 
demned, exercises, I am inclined to think, a far 
more extensive influence over her habits and her 
feelings. ( Any deviation from the fashionable 


310 GENERAL HABITS OF 


mode of dress, or from the established usages of 
polished life, present an appalling difficulty to a 
woman of ordinary mind brought up under the 
tutelage of what is called the world. She cannot 
—positively cannot—dare not—will not do any 
thing that the world has pronounced unlady-like. 
Nor, while she lives in the world, and mixes in 
polished society, is it at all desirable that she 
should deviate from such universally acknowledged 
rules, except where absolute duty leads her into 
a different line of conduct. I should be the last 
person to advise a woman to risk the consequences 
of such deviations, simply for the sake of being 
singular; because, I regard the assumption of 
singularity for its own sake, as one of the most 
absurd of all the varied specimens of affectation 
which human life affords. » 

To choose to be singular without a sufficient 
reason, and to dare to be so in a noble cause, 
are so widely different, that I desire to be clearly 
understood in the remarks I am about to make, 
as referring strictly to those cases in which duty 
renders it necessary for women to deviate from 
the fashions and established customs of the time 
or place in which they live. 

While the tide of prosperity bears us smoothly 
on, and our means are ample, and our luxuries 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. oll 


abundant, we suffer little inconvenience from the 
tyranny of the world in these respects. Indeed, 
it is rather an agreeable amusement to many 
ladies to consult the fashions of the day, and to be 
amongst the first to change their mode of dress— 
to order costly furniture, and to receive company 
in the most approved and lady-like style. But as 
I have before observed, of the class of persons to 
-which this work chiefly relates, the tide of pros- 
perity is apt to ebb, as well as to flow; and as it 
recedes from us, the whole aspect of the world 
is not only changed to us, but the aspect of our 
conduct is changed to the world; so that, what 
it approved in us before, and honoured with its 
countenance, is now the subject of its extreme 
and bitter condemnation. 

It is then that we discover, we have been serv- 
ing a hard master; but unfortunately for thou- 
sands of human beings, the discovery brings with 
it no freedom from that service. We loathe the 
cruel bondage; but habit is too strong for convic- 
tion, and we continue to wear the galling chain. 
It is, then, in cases of adverse fortune, that we see 
the incalculable benefit of having made the moral 
duties of social and domestic life the rule of our 
conduct, and of having regarded all outward 


312 GENERAL HABITS OF 


embellishments as things of very subordinate 
importance. 

It is a case of by no means rare occurrence, 
that the young women of England return home 
from school more learned in the modes of dress, 
and habits of conduct prevailing amongst the 
fashionable and the wealthy, than in any of those 
systems of intellectual culture in which they 
have been instructed. Or if their knowledge has . 
not extended to what is done in fashionable life, 
they have at least learned to despise what is done 
amongst the vulgar and the poor, to look upon 
certain kinds of dress as impossible to be worn, 
and to regard with supreme contempt every indi- 
cation of the absence of fashionable manners. So 
far as their means of information could be made 
to extend, they have laid down, for the guidance 
of their future lives, the exact rules by which the 
outward conduct of a lady ought to be regulated, 
and by these rules they determine to abide. 

If this determination was applied exclusively to 
what is delicate, refined, and lovely in the female 
character, they would unquestionably be preparing 
themselves for being both esteemed and beloved; 
but unfortunately for them, their attention is too 
often directed to the mode of dress worn by per- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 3138 


sons much higher than themselves in worldly pros- 
perity, and to all the minutize of look and manner 
which they regard as indications of easy circum- 
stances, and exemption from vulgar occupation. - 

Nor is the school itself, or the mode of treat- 
ment there, to be regarded as the source of these 
ideas and conclusions. The customs of modern 
society, and the taste of modern times, are solely 
in fault. And wherever young ladies are congre- 
gated together with the same means of communi- 
cation as at school, the same results must follow, 
until the public taste undergoes a material change, 
or until the women of England have become 
learned in a higher school of wisdom. 

With the preparation here alluded to, our young 
women enter upon social life; and as years roll on, 
the habits thus acquired of making custom and 
fashion the rule of their lives, strengthen with the 
establishment of their character, and become as 
parts of their very being. What then is the con- 
sequence of such habits in the day of their adver- 
sity, when the diminution of their pecuniary means 
leaves them no longer the power of conforming to — 
the world they have so loved? ‘The consequence 
is, that along with many real privations, their 
ideal sufferings are increased a hundred-fold, by 
the fact that they must dress and live in a manner 


314 GENERAL HABITS OF 


different from what they have been accustomed 
to—in short, that they must lose caste. 

How little has the mere circumstance of relin- 
quishing our luxuries to do with the distress 
attendant upon the loss of worldly substance. We 
find every day that persons travelling expressly for 
enjoyment, joining in social excursions, and even 
seeking the invigoration of their health, and the 
refreshment of their spirits, from the sea-breezes, 
or in places of customary resort for the summer 
months, voluntarily resign more than half their 
habitual indulgences, and subject themselves, 
without a murmur, to the occupation of apart- 
ments which they would scarcely think possible to 
be endured for a single day in their native town ; 
and all the while they are perhaps more happy 
and more cheerful than in their elegant drawing- 
rooms at home. 

It is evident, then, that it cannot be their indi- 
vidual share in the gratification of artificial wants, 
which they find it so heart-breaking to resign. It 
must be that a certain number of polite and 
refined individuals having combined to attach a 
high degree of importance to the means of pro- 
curing the luxuries of life, all who belong to this 
class, when compelled to exhibit in public a 
manifest destitution of such means, regard them- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 315 


selves, and expect to be regarded by others, as 
having become degraded in the sight of their 
fellow-creatures, and no longer entitled to their 
favour or regard. 

It is of no use asserting that we all know better 
than to come to this conclusion—that mankind 
are not so weak, or so unjust—that we appreciate 
the moral worth of an individual beyond the luxu- 
ries of his table, or the costliness of his dress. It 
is easy to say this ; but it is not so easy to believe 
it, because the practical proof of experience is 
against it. If, for instance, we cared for none of 
these things, why should the aspect of human life 
present such a waste of time, and health, and 
patience, and mental power, and domestic peace, 
in the pursuit of wealth, when that wealth is 
expended, as soon as gained, in maintaining an 
appearance of elegance and luxury before the 
world ? 

I am not prepared to argue about the benefits 
resulting from the encouragement of artificial 
wants, and the increase of luxuries, on the broad 
scale of national prosperity. ‘There are pens more 
able and more fit for such a purpose. My nar- 
rower views are confined to the individual evils 
resulting from an over-strained ambition to keep 
pace with our wealthier associates in our general 


316 GENERAL HABITS OF 


habits; and I would write with earnestness on this 
subject, because I believe that in England, at the 
present time, these evils are of rapidly increasing 
extent. 

It may seem unimportant to those who have no 
experience in these affairs, to speak of the private 
and domestic disputes arising out of artificial wants, 
on one side, and inability to provide the demanded 
supply for them, on the other. Yet what family, 
in moderate circumstances, has not some record of 
scenes, alike humiliating to human nature, and 
destructive to human happiness, in which the ill- 
judged request, or the harsh denial—the importu- 
nate appeal, or the agonizing reply—the fretful 
remonstrance, or the bitter retort, have not at sea- 
sons cast a shade over the domestic hearth, and 
destroyed the peace of the circle gathered around 
the social board. 

It may appear still more like trifling, to speak 
of the sensations, with which a member of a 
fallen family regards her dilapidated wardrobe, and 
looks, and looks in vain for a garment sufficiently 
respectable to make her appearance in before a 
rich relation. Perhaps she has but one—a call 
has to be made upon a person of distinction, and 
as she proceeds on her way, eyeing with watchful 
anxiety every speck and spray that would he 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 317 


likely to reduce her garment below the average of 
respectability, a storm overtakes her. ‘There are 
carriages for all who can afford to pay for them, 
but none for her: and the agony of losing her last 
claim to gentility takes possession of her soul. 

The reader may possibly smile at the absurdity 
of this case. A half-clad savage from some bar- 
barous island, would probably smile, could he be 
made to understand it. But nothing can be farther 
from exciting a smile than the real sensations it 
oceasions. Nothing can be farther from a smile 
than the look with which a failing tradesman 
regards the forlorn condition of his hat, when he 
dares not brush it, lest he should render its desti- 
tution more apparent. Nothing can be farther 
from a smile, than the glance he casts upon his 
threadbare coat, when he knows of no possible 
resource in art or nature that can supply him with 
anew one. And nothing can be farther from a 
smile, than the cold welcome we give to a guest 
who presents himself unexpectedly, and must, 
perforce, look in upon the scantiness of our half- 
furnished table. 

It is easy to class these sources of disquietude 
under the head of absurdities, and to call them 
unworthy of rational beings; but I do believe, 
there is more real misery existing in the world at 


318 GENERAL HABITS OF 


the present time, from causes like these, than from 
all those publicly-acknowledged calamities which 
are more uniformly attributed to the dispensations 
of Providence. 

I do not mean that these miseries arise directly 
from, or are by any means confined to, our per- 
sonal appearance, or the furniture of our houses; 
but when we contemplate the failure of pecuniary 
means, as it is regarded by the world, and attempt 
to calculate the immense variety of channels 
through which the suffering it produces is made to 
flow, in consequence of the customs and habits of 
society, I believe they will be found to extend 
through every variety of human life, to the utmost 
range of human feeling. Is it not to escape this 
suffering that the man of unsound principles too 
frequently applies himself to dishonourable means 
—that the suicide prepares the deadly draught— 
and that the emigrant sometimes forsakes his 
native land, and consigns himself to the solitude 
of unpeopled wilds ?—In short, what more remains 
within the range of human capability, which man 
has not done, with the hope of flying from the 
horrors attendant upon the falling away of his 
pecuniary means? 

When the reality of this suffering is acknow- 
ledged, as it must be by all who look upon society 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 319 


as it exists at the present moment; the next sub- 
ject of importance is, to consider how the suffering 
can be obviated, and its fatal effects upon the peace 
and happiness of society prevented. 

The most immediate means that could be made 
to operate upon woman would unquestionably be, 
by implanting in her mind a deeper and more 
rational foundation of thought and feeling—to put 
a stop to that endless variety of ill-natured gossip 
which relates to the want of elegance, or fashion- 
able air in certain persons’ dress and manner of 
living; so that there should be no more question- | 
ing, “ What will be thought of my wearing this 
dress again?” “ What will Miss P., or Mrs. W. 
say, if they see our old curtains?” ‘ What can the 
Johnsons mean by travelling outside?” ‘What 
will the people at church or chapel say, when they 
see your shabby veil?” “I positively don’t believe 
the Wilsons can afford a new carpet, or they would 
surely have one; and they have discontinued their 
subscription to our book-society.” 

It is neither grateful nor profitable to pursue 
these remarks any farther than as they serve for 
specimens of that most contemptible of small-talk, 
which yet exercises a powerful influence over the 
female mind—so much so, that I have known the 
whole fabric of a woman’s philosophy entirely 


320 GENERAL HABITS OF 


overthrown, and her peace of mind for the moment 
destroyed, by the simple question, whether she had 
no other dress than the one she was so often seen 
to wear. 

There is another instance that occurs to me, 
as illustrating, in a striking manner, the subject 
immediately under consideration: it is that of 
wearing mourning for a deceased relative. ‘This 
custom is so generally acknowledged as desirable, 
that it needs no recommendation from my pen. 
One would suppose, however, on a superficial view 
of it, that the wearing of black, as a general cos- 
tume indicative of the absence of festivity. or 
merriment from the bereaved family, was all that 
had been originally intended by this custom; and 
that it should thus become an outward testimony 
of respect and sorrow for the dead. 

The fashion of the world, however, has imposed 
upon this custom, as applies to. females, certain 
restrictions, and additions so expensive in their 
nature as to render it rather an article of luxury 
to wear genteel mourning, or that which is indi- 
cative of the deepest grief. It interferes but 
little with the sorrow and seclusion of a recent 
bereavement for the mistress of ample means to 
give orders for an external exemplification of pre- 
cisely the degree of sorrow supposed to attend 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 32) 


upon the loss of a parent, or a distant relative. 
But when the means of pecuniary expenditure are 
extremely small, and the materials for appearing 
properly in public have to be made up at home, 
and prepared for use within a very limited time, it 
is evident that greater regard to the sacredness of 
sorrow would suggest the desirableness of a less 
elaborate style of dress, or perhaps a dress. not 
absolutely new for the occasion. Ladies, however,,. 
and those who have been accustomed to make 
gentility the primary rule of their conduct, must 
mourn genteelly; and, consequently, there are 
often scenes of bustling preparation, of invention, 
and studious arrangement—scenes, upon which, ifa 
stranger should look in, he would see an appearance 
of activity, and interest, almost amounting to amuse- 
ment, in the very house where the shutters are still 
closed; and which are wholly at variance with the 
silence and the sanctity ofa deep and solemn grief. 
Nor is this all. So extremely becoming and lady- 
like is the fashionable style of mourning, that, under 
the plea of paying greater respect to the memory 
of the dead, it has become an object of ambition 
to wear it in its greatest excellence; and equally 
an object of dread, and source of humiliation, to be 
compelled to wear it in an inferior style. Thus, 
when the loss of a father is attended with the failure 
P 


322 GENERAL HABITS OF 


of his pecuniary resources, it adds no little to the 
grief into which his daughters are plunged, to be 
under the necessity of appearing so soon after their 
twofold loss, under such an outward sign of poverty 
as is generally understood by the world to be 
_betrayed by cheap and humble mourning. 

It is evident that if the preparation of mourning 
had never been reduced to a system—so many folds 
of crape for a parent—so many for a sister, and so 
on—the peculiar style in which it might be made up 
would never have obtained half its present import- 
ance, and respectable women, of fallen fortunes, 
might then have appeared in public with the credit 
of paying as much honour to the memory of the 
dead, as the more wealthy; nay, they might even 
have been so absorbed in their heart-rending loss, 
and in all the solemn and affecting impressions it 
was calculated to inspire, as to forget to have any 
new preparation for the occasion, and might, with- 
out loss of respectability, appear again in those 
accustomed habiliments of darkness and gloom 
which former instances of family affliction and 
bereavement had been the means of bringing 
into use. 

I mention the instance of mourning, not be- 
cause it differs materially from many others, but 
because it appears to me to illustrate clearly and 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 323 


strikingly the degree of shame, and trouble, and 
perplexity, in which women are involved by the 
habit of attaching too much importance to the 
usages of society. I know that it is beneficial to 
the character and the morals of women, that their 
good name should be guarded from every breath 
of reproach; and that the wholesome restrictions 
of society are absolutely necessary to prevent them 
from sometimes venturing too far under the influ- 
ence of generous and disinterested feeling. But 
my remarks apply exclusively to cases where their 
moral worth would be established, not endan- 
gered; and I would earnestly request my coun- 
trywomen to bear in mind the immense difference 
between deviating from the rules of fashion, and 
breaking through the wholesome restrictions of 
prudence. 

I have spoken in strong terms of the sufferings 
and inconveniences incident to women, from their 
slavery to the opinion of the world; but were this 
consideration all that had to be taken into ac- 
count, they would unquestionably have a right to 
adjust the balance, and act according to their own 
choice. 

There is, however, a far more important ques- 
tion connected with this subject—and that is, the 
question of integrity. 


b24 GENERAL HABITS OF 


If there be one moral quality for which England 
as a nation is distinguished above all others, | 
should say it was her integrity—integrity in her 
intercourse with other nations—integrity in the 
administration of her government and laws—in- 
tegrity in the sound hearts and honourable feel- 
ings of her patriotic sons. 

And shall her daughters be less solicitous to 
uphold this high standard of moral worth? ‘They 
answer “ No!’ But they are perhaps not all 
aware of the encroaching and insidious nature of 
artificial wants, and tastes, and habits, founded 
upon the fashion of the times, rather than upon 
any lasting principle of right. ‘They are not all 
aware, that to dress and live beyond their means, 
is a species of public robbery; and that even if 
every lawful debt is paid, and the balance struck 
without injury to character or credit, there are 
still the poor—the starving, hungry, helpless 
poor—unsatisfied with bread. They have there- 
fore the strong claims, both of justice and bene- 
volence, to fulfil, before the integrity of their 
christian character can be complete. 

With regard to general benevolence, and charity 
to the poor, we are apt to deceive ourselves to an 
extent which would be beyond our belief, were 
we not convinced by the observation of every 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 325 


day, that few—very few of those even in the 
middle ranks of life—few even of those tender- 
hearted females who are so painfully affected by 
every exhibition of human misery, do anything at 
all commensurate with their means, towards alle- 
viating the suffering which is to be found amongst 
the poor. 

I am not inclined to attach any high degree of 
merit to the mere act of giving money to the 
poor, because I esteem it a luxury to be thus 
instrumental in relieving their pressing difficul- 
ties; and I am also in considerable doubt whether 
this is the best method of relieving them. ‘The 
point I am about to remark upon, however, is the 
extreme inconsistency of those longings, so pre- 
valent amongst ladies, that they cowld give to the 
poor; and the lamentations they frequently utter 
relating to the absolute necessity they are under, 
of not giving more. We find them elegantly 
dressed, dwelling amongst costly furniture, and 
denying themselves nothing which their wealthier 
neighbours enjoy—and all the while, they do so 
wish they could give more to the poor ! 

I confess it sickens the heart, and wearies the 
mind, to listen to absurdities like this.. If these 
individuals would but let the matter rest, and be 


326 GENERAL HABITS OF 


content to be fashionable without pretending to be 
generous, half their culpability would cease to 
exist.. But they go on to explain to you how 
their station in life, and their credit in society, 
require them to dress and live in a certain way; 
and how they consider themselves doing a benefit 
to their country by their encouragement of its 
manufactures. It would not be inappropriate to 
ask them, as they enter a fashionable and expen- 
sive establishment to purchase some costly articles 
of dress, whether they are doing it in reality for 
the benefit of their country? and there might be 
seasons when it would be equally appropriate to 
inquire, whether they prefer their appearance 
before the world, to the spiritual consolation of 
having made the injunctions of their blessed 
Saviour the rule of their conduct. : 
The ‘measure of charity, which it is our duty to 
bestow upon the poor, is a point of very difficult 
adjustment, as well as the manner we may choose 
to adopt in the distribution of our means. We 
cannot properly make ourselves the judge of a 
brother ora sister, in these respects. But if we 
have sufficient resources for the purchase of luxu- 
ries, it is in vain to pretend that we cannot give 
to the poor; and if we will not spare a little out 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 327 


of our little, we cannot expect to be believed, when 
we boast of the pleasure it would afford us to be 
charitable with more. 

There are noble instances afforded by women in 
the middle classes of society in England, of what 
can really be done in the way of benevolence, in a 
persevering and unobtrusive manner, which it is 
truly refreshing to the soul to contemplate. And 
I would earnestly recommend my young country- 
women to look seriously to these, and to ask 
whether they cannot go and do likewise; rather 
than to accustom themselves to the dangerous 
habit of inquiring whether they cannot afford to 
purchase what is fashionable and becoming to a 
lady, even when it is not necessary for comfort or 
respectability. By this means they would at least 
be able to attain a degree of merit; for if they 
did not go to the extent of the truly devoted and 
praiseworthy, they might avoid involving them- 
selves in that interminable chain of expensive 
contingencies, which are sure to follow, if we set 
out in life by making it our first object of ambition 
to stand well with the world, and to accommodate 
our dress and mode of living to that which is most 
admired in society. 

The fallacious mode of reasoning induced by 
too slavish a conformity to the fashions and the 


328 GENERAL HABITS oF 


customs of the world, creates an endless series of 
entanglements most fatally seductive to woman’s 
better feelings. The fact of having, or not having, 
absolute debts unpaid, seems to be, with most 
young ladies, the boundary-line of their morality, 
as relates to their pecuniary affairs; and well would 
it be if ald were strictly scrupulous even to this 
*xtent. Within this line, however, there may be 
deviations from the integrity of a noble, generous, 
and enlightened mind, which yet the world takes 
no cognizance of, and which do not materially 
affect the character, as it is judged of by society 
in general. 

I have said that the world is an unjust judge ; 
and in no instance is it more so than im this. The 
world pays homage to an expensive, elegant, and 
lady-like appearance; but it takes little note of 
the principle that would condemn this appear- 
ance, if it could not be maintained without 
encroachment upon a parent’s limited means. 
The restrictions of civil law refer only to the pay~ 
ment of pecuniary debts; and when these are dis- 
charged, we may appear without reproach before 
society. But happily for us, we have a higher 
standard of moral duty; and the integrity of the 
christian character requires a strict observance of 
points of conduct unseen by society, and perhaps 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 329 


known only to ourselves, and to the great Searcher 
of human hearts, by whose judgment we must 
stand or fall. 

Reasoning, then, upon these subjects, from 
higher principles, we clearly perceive that we 
have no right to indulge ourselves with luxuries, 
or to purchase the countenance and favour of 
society, at the expense of a parent’s peace, or by 
the sacrifice of the comforts of his old age. We 
have no right to encroach upon means not strictly 
and lawfully our own, even though they should be 
granted to our necessities, for more than belongs 
to actual decency of appearance, and sufficiency of 
subsistence, except in those cases where it is the 
desire of _ wealthy friends or relatives that we 
should be adorned and supplied at their expense. 
We have no right, and no woman of good feeling 
would wish to establish a right, to dress and live 
at the extreme of expenditure, which a father, by 
nothing less than hourly and incessant toil, can 
obtain the means of affording. We have no right 
to make presents, and thus obtain the meed of 
gratitude and admiration for our generosity, with 
money which is immediately transmitted from our 
father’s hand for that especial purpose, while our 
own resources remain undiminished, our own pri- 

P2 


330 GENERAL HABITS OF 


vate store of treasures uninvaded, and our circum- 
stances wholly unaffected. 

I do not say that to each one of the immense 
variety of daily and familiar actions, which might 
be classed under this head, there attaches the 
highest degree of actual culpability. They are 
rather instances of encroachment, than of absolute 
injustice and wrong. But I do say that the habit 
of encroaching, just so far as decency will permit, 
and as occasion seems to warrant, upon all that is 
noble and generous, upright and kind, in human 
conduct, has a fatal tendency to corrupt the heart, 
while it produces at the same time a deadening 
effect upon the highest and holiest aspirations of 
the soul. 

What answer can be made by such a soul to the 
secret questionings of its internal monitor? Or 
how shall we appeal to the gracious and merciful 
Creator of the universe, who has given us all this 
glorious world for our enjoyment, and all the 
elements of nature for our use; who has looked 
upon us in our degradation, and pitied our infir- 
mities, and opened the gates of heaven, that his 
mercy might descend to us in a palpable and 
human form, and that we might receive the con- 
ditions of his offered pardon, be healed, and lire? 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 331 


—how shall we appeal to him in our private 
prayers, or stand before him in the public sanc- 
tuary, with this confession on our lips—that just 
so far as man could approve or condemn our 
actions, we have deemed it expedient to be just; 
but that to him, and to the Saviour of our souls, 
we have grudged the incense of a willing mind; 
and therefore we have enhanced our pleasures, 
and gratified our pride, and fed our selfishness, by 
all those trifling, yet forbidden means, which he 
has pronounced to be offensive in his sight ? 

Besides these considerations, there is one of 
immeasurable importance, connected with our con- 
duct in the sightof God. No human mind can 
set a bound, or prescribe a measure, to its voluntary 
deviations from the line of duty. We have been 
supposing a case in which these deviations are 
extremely minute, and yet so numerous as to form 
as it were acircle round the heart—a circle of 
evil. Imagine, then, this circle widening, and 
widening, year after year, through the seasons of 
youth and maturity, and the dreary winter of old 
age. What an awful and melancholy spectacle 
does the state of that heart present, enclosed as 
it were in a deleterious atmosphere, and growing 
perpetually colder and more callous by exclusion 
from the blessed light of heaven. 


332 GENERAL HABITS OF 


Oh! let us not begin to breathe this deadly 
atmosphere! And you who are yet inexperienced 
in the ways of human life, whose habits are not 
formed, whose paths not chosen, whose line of 
conduct not decided, what a blessing would it be 
to you, both in this world and in the world to 
come, were you to choose that better part, that 
would enable you to look with a single eye to what 
is most acceptable in the Divine sight, and most 
in accordance with the will of God; leaving the 
embellishments of person, the luxuries of taste, and 
the appropriation of worldly esteem, to be enjoyed 
or relinquished with a grateful and contented mind, 
just as your heavenly Father may permit; and 
bearing always about with you, as a talisman 
against the encroachments of evil, even in the most 
simple or most specious form, the remembrance 
that none of these things are worthy of a single 
wish, if they must necessarily be obtained by the 
violation of his laws, or accompanied by the tokens 
of his displeasure. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 303 


¢ CHAPTER XIII. 


HABITS AND CHARACTER—INTELLECTUAL ATTAINMENTS 
—EMPLOYMENT OF TIME—MORAL COURAGE—RIGHT 
BALANCE OF MIND. 


To those gentle readers, who have been kind 
enough to accompany me through the foregoing 
pages, and who feel inclined to exercise their 
forbearance through a few more, [ feel that some 
apology, or rather some explanation, is necessary 
for the manner in which I have so often been 
compelled to speak of the extraordinary ambition 
manifested by my countrywomen, in the present 
day, to make themselves mistress of every possible 
variety of intellectual attainment that can be 
acquired at school; and I cannot help fearing, 
that many of my remarks may appear to have 
been written with a view to depreciate the value 
of these treasures of mind, and, as far as my single 
influence may extend, to deter others from the 
pursuit of them. 

So far from this, I would repeat, if possible, in 


334 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


words which could not be forgotten, my firm con- 
viction, that no human being can learn too much, 
so that their sphere of intelligence does not extend 
to what is evil. But, while the accumulation of 
a vast store of knowledge is one of the objects we 
have in view in the culture of the mind, we must 
not forget that it is by no means the only one. In 
rearing an infant, we not only supply its appetite 
with food, but also find it necessary to teach it the 
habit, and assist it in the power, of exercising 
its limbs; we guide its steps, and, as far as we 
are able, give it just notions of exercising its 
bodily functions with the best effect. 

To feed the mind, then, is but a small part of our 
duty. If we leave it helpless and inert, without 
ability to exercise its various powers, and judgment 
to exercise them aright, the most important portion 
of that duty is neglected. ‘Thus far, I believe, all 
who are employed in teaching the young, will go 
along with me, for their experience must afford 
strong evidence in favour of this statement. There 
are some points, however, in which, it appears to 
me, they have allowed the fashion of the times to 
render their system of instruction extremely defect- 
ive. But, for this, l am by no means prepared to 
say, that they are in any degree to blame; because 
they have the taste of the times to consult; and, 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 335 


they would obtain little credit for making our young 
women what they ought to be, if that taste was not 
correct. 

With regard to moral discipline, or that mode of 
instruction by which women would be fitted for 
their domestic and social duties, I have expressed 
my opinion in an earlier chapter of this work; and, 
with regard to intellectual culture, I hope to be 
pardoned if I now venture a few remarks. 

It appears to me, in looking abroad upon soci- 
ety, and contemplating the immense variety of 
mental attainments which prevail amongst the 
young women of the present day, that they are in 
imminent danger of supposing, when they have 
acquired a, vast amount of verbal knowledge, that 
the great work of education is done. They are, 
in short, in danger of mistaking the means for the 
end; and of resting satisfied that they are wiser 
than the generation before them. 

In the acquirement of languages, this is parti- 
cularly the case. A young lady obtains the repu- 
tation of being clever, when she has made herself 
mistress of several languages; and with this she is 
generally satisfied; while she ought to remember 
that she has but gained possession, as it were, of 
the keys of vast storehouses of knowledge, for the 
use of which she is responsible to society. 


336 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


Our young ladies are made acquainted while at 
school, with the dates of most of the leading 
events of history, with the years when certain 
kings began to reign, and the precise time of their 
holding the reins of government. ‘The various 
devices for impressing these events upon their 
recollection, are no less ingenious than commend- 
able; but could any plan be adopted for enabling 
them to draw conclusions from such facts, to com- 
pare historical events with each other, to trace the 
progress of civilization, and to ascertain what 
circumstances have most invariably led to the rise 
or the fall of different empires—instead of being 
confined to isolated facts, their conversation would 
then be fraught with the richer burden of those 
important truths, for which history supplies nothing 
more than illustration. 

Again, in the pursuit of science, there is a 
technicality that strikes the ear, and gives an idea 
of vast superiority in the way of attainments; and 
there are facts that may be impressed upon the 
memory, without the mind being in any way. 
enlarged, or enlightened by the reception of them. 
It is easy, for instance, to talk of botany, without 
the thoughts at any time extending themselves 
to the general economy of vegetation; and of 
astronomy, so as to tell the distances of different 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 337 


planets, without the soul being penetrated by | 
one ray of illumination from the wisdom which 
designed, and which controls the starry heavens. 
It is easy to attend a few scientific lectures, and 
to return home talking of the names of gases, and 
of some of the most striking phenomena of elec- 
tricity, the galvanic battery, and other popular 
exhibitions of the lecture-room; but it requires a 
totally different process of mind, to take a general 
survey of the laws of the universe, and to bow 
before the conviction that all must have been 
created by a hand divine. : 

From our observations of rural or romantic 
scenery, it is easy to babble about woods and 
waterfalls, about the ruggedness of mountains, and 
the grandeur of the raging sea; but it does not 
follow as a necessary consequence that we have 
formed any conception of the idea of abstract 
beauty, or of the reverential, but admiring awe, 
which true sublimity is calculated to inspire. It 
does not follow that we shall have learned to 
embody in the elements of nature, those subtler 
essences of spirit and of mind, which, to the poeti- 
cal and imaginative, people every desert, and render 
vocal with melody the silence of night. 

It may be said, that in this busy world, there is 
little employment for the imagination—little scope 


338 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


for the exercise of poetical associations. I grant 
—for I am compelled to do so—that poetry should 
be elbowed out of our working world to make room 
for machinery ; but I see no reason why the same 
train of thought, and course of reasoning, should 
not be carried on. I grant that the materials are 
different ; but why should we not still endeavour 
to raise an altar in our minds for a higher, holier 
worship than that of the mammon of this world? 
Why should we fix our attention solely upon the 
material part of the universe, satisfying ourselves 
with the names of substantial things, with their 
variety, classification, and physical properties? 
Why should we confine ourselves to counting the 
pillars in the temple of nature, computing its 
magnitude and measuring its height, without 
referring our calculations, through the highest 
range of imagination, to the wonder-working 
power of the great Artificer ? 

It may be said, that we dwell too much in cities, 
and lead too artificial a life, to be able to perceive 
the instrumentality of Divine Wisdom in all the 
events that pass beneath our observation. If this 
be the case, there is the more need that we 
should rouse ourselves by fresh efforts, to pene- 
trate beyond the polished surface of the world in 
which we live, into the deeper mysteries that lie 


4 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 339 


beyond—there is the more need that we should 
endeavour to perceive, in the practical affairs of 
busy life, those great principles by which the laws 
of nature are governed, and the system of the 
universe upheld. 

If, for instance, we live in the heart of a thickly- 
peopled city, with the rush of its busy multitudes 
around us, and the labour of man’s hand, and the 
efforts of his ingenuity, perpetually before our 
eyes, there is no reason why we should look only 
at the splendour of its manufactured articles, 
amuse our fancy with the outward aspect of its 
varied exhibitions of art, or regard with disgust 
the occupations of the mechanic, because he han- 
dles the raw material, and touches what is gross. 
Would it not be more consistent with the exercise 
of an enlightened mind, to contemplate the won- 
ders of that power which the Creator has entrusted 
to the use of man, so that he lays hold, as it 
were, of the elements of nature, and makes them 
submit to his will? 

Night falls not with stillness and repose 
upon the city, but we walk as through a living 
blaze: and shall we pass on, like children, pleased 
with the glitter and the show, without reflecting 
that man has been able to convert the darkest 
substance from the bowels of the earth into the 


340 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


very source of all this light? Mountains and 
valleys, tracts of land and floods of water, intervene 
between.us and our distant friends; but we fly to 
them with a rapidity, which, a few years ago, 
would have been pronounced, even by philosophers, 
impossible. And shall we move like senseless 
matter, even through the very heart of the moun- 
tain, calculating only the speed at which we travel, 
without awaking to the momentous fact, that by 
the ingenuity of man, mere vapour, proverbial as it 
is for its weakness, emptiness, and nothingness in 
the creation, has been converted into the master- 
power by which the mighty operations of men are 
carried on. We take our daily walks through the 
bustling city, and gaze at the splendid exhibitions 
of taste, and learn the names of those who are most 
skilled in music and painting, and all the sister 
arts; and we speak in the cant terms that are most 
in vogue, and think we display superiority of mind 
and intelligence to use them well; but should we 
not at the same time cultivate the habit of bear- 
ing in remembrance the unchanging principles of 
beauty, and of referring back to them whatever is 
offered to our admiration in the form of art? 

We speak of the degrading cares and sordid views 
that occupy the working world ;. but how have we 
endeavoured to pass beyond these, and to connect 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. ofl 


them with the world of thought? We hear of the 
vast amount of labour carried on, and the relative 
expenses incurred, and the different things that can 
be made and done within a given time: but why 
should we not ‘sometimes make a transition of 
thought from the material, to the means of working 
it—from the means, to the power--and from the 
power that is imparted, to the Creator who imparts. 
To-day the mechanic plies his busy tools. To- 
morrow his hand may have become rigid and motion- 
less beneath the stroke of death. ‘Thousands and 
tens of thousands pass away from the scene of their 
labours, but the labour still goes on; for the laws. 
of nature change not, and the principles upon which 
the labour of man is carried into effect, remain the 
same. 

As with one accord, our young ladies appear to 
have come to the determination of dismissing 
from their minds even the faintest apprehension 
of the subject of political economy, except when 
garnished to their taste by an attractive story ; 
nor could this be wondered at, were the subject 
necessarily associated with the vulgarity of party 
politics. But they seem to forget that the coarse 
jargon of popular excitement, has little to do with 
the spirit of their country’s laws, the policy of her 
negociations, the benevolence and wisdom of her 


342 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


institutions; and the principles of justice by 
which her integrity is upheld. A little atten- 
tion properly bestowed upon these subjects would 
enable women, not only to converse with men upon 
some of their favourite themes; but what is of 
more importance, to lead them away by imper- 
ceptible degrees, from those partial views which 
are the result of prejudice, those violent expres- 
sions which ignorance alone can justify, and that 
personality of remark so destructive to the peace 
and good will of society. 

We are too apt, because we mingle in populous 
and busy scenes, and feel the necessity of moving 
with the tide, to forget that what we see and hear, 
what is obvious to the senses and palpable to 
the touch, is not all that we live for, or even all 
that we live amongst. We should endeavour to find 
breathing-times even amidst the hurry and the rush 
of present things. We should sometimes pause 
amongst the multitude, and listen mentally, to the 
beating of the mighty pulse of a tumultuous city, 
and ask, whether the Creator and Sustainer of this 
living mass is not beholding the operation of the 
various powers he has set in motion, marking its 
defects, supplying its deficiences, and sustaining 
the stupendous whole. We should then be enabled 
to perceive something of the working of the inner 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 343 


plan, how one class of human beings depends upon 
another—how the principles of justice establish 
checks and counter-checks, so that no single power 
shall be predominant; how poverty and riches 
alternate, and how the vices of the bad are made 
to call forth the virtues of the good; and by 
renewing our conviction that God is indeed here, 
as well as present to the more peaceful and har- 
monious portions of his creation, we should renew 
our faith, and enjoy perpetual refreshment for our 
souls. 

What we most want in education, then, is to 
invest material things with the attributes of mind; 
and we want this more and more, as commerce, 
and arts, and manufactures increase in import- 
ance and extent. We want it more and more, to 
give interest to our familiar and necessary occu- 
pations; and we want it, especially, that we may 
assist in redeeming the character of English men 
from the mere animal, or rather, the mere me- 
chanical state, into which, from the nature and 
urgency of their occupations, they are in danger 
of falling. 

We want it also for ourselves; for a time seems 
to be approaching, when the middle class of so- 
ciety in England will have to be subdivided; and 
when the lower portion of this class will of neces- 


344 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


sity have to turn their attention to a different 
style of living, and to different modes of occupa- 
tion, thought, and feeling. At present all this 
elass are educated nearly upon the same plan. 
The happiness of society, and our moral necessi- 
ties, will surely, before long, suggest the im- 
portance of females of this class being fitted for 
something very different from drawing-room exhi- 
bitions. 

Ali that I have written in this volume, imper- 
fect as it is, has been stimulated by a desire to 
increase the moral worth of my countrywomen, 
and enhance the domestic happiness of my native 
land. In order that this should be done effec- 
tually, it seems to me indispensably necessary, 
that women, whose parents are possessed of slen- 
der means, or engaged in business, and who can 
with extreme difficulty accomplish even so much 
as what is called “making their way,’—that 
women in this class should be educated, not 
simply for ladies, but for useful and active mem-— 
bers of society—and for this purpose, that they 
also should consider it no degradation to render 
their activity conducive to the purposes of trade. 

It is a curious anomaly in the structure of 
modern society, that gentlemen may employ their 
hours of business in almost any degrading oceupa- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND 345 


tion, and, if they have but the means of support- 
ing a respectable establishment at home, may be 
gentlemen still; while, if a lady does but touch 
any article, no matter how delicate, in the way of 
of trade, she loses caste, and ceases to be a lady. 

I say this with all possible respect for those 
who have the good sense and the moral courage 
to employ themselves in the business of their 
fathers and their husbands, rather than to remain 
idle and dependent; because I know that many 
of them are ladies in the best acceptation of the 
word—ladies in the delicacy and propriety of 
their feelings, and more than ladies in the noble 
dignity of their general conduct. Still I doubt 
not they have had their difficulties to encounter 
from the influence of public opinion, and that their 
generous feelings have been often wounded by 
the vulgar prejudices prevailing in society against 
their mode of life. 

With the improvements of art, and the increase 
of manufactures, there must be an increased 
demand for mechanics and work-people of every 
description; and supposing English society to be 
divided, as it soon must be, into four classes, there 
surely can be no reason why the second class of 
females should not be so trained, as to partake 
in the advantages resulting from this extended 

Q 


346 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


sphere of active and useful occupation.— The 
only field at present open for what is considered 
lady-like employment, is that of educating the 
young; and hence the number of accomplished 
young women, too refined for common usefulness, 
whose claims to public attention as governesses 
tend so much to reduce the value of their services 
in that important sphere. 

There are, however, many descriptions of occu- 
pation connected with business in its varied forms, 
which are by no means polluting to the touch, or 
degrading to the mind; and it would be an un- 
speakable advantage to hundreds of young females, 
if, instead of useless accomplishments, they could 
be instructed in these. In addition to all kinds of 
fancy millinery, the entire monopoly of which they 
might surely be permitted to enjoy, I would point 
out especially to their attention, the art of engrav- 
ing, which might very properly call into exercise 
the taste and ingenuity of the female sex, without 
taxing too severely their mental or bodily powers. 
To this I would add, the art of drawing patterns 
for the muslin and calico printers, an occupation 
which appears peculiarly adapted to the female 
taste, and which might be carried on without the 
least encroachment upon the seclusion of domestic 
life, and the delicacy of the female character. 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 347 


I have been led to understand that this branch of 
business is almost exclusively carried on by men ; 
and I cannot but regret, that an employment, 
which offers a tempting luxury to those who suffer 
from the combined evils of idleness and scanty 
means, should not also be rendered productive of 
pecuniary benefit to women. 

It seems, however, to be from this pecuniary 
benefit that they shrink ; for when we observe the 
nature of their daily occupations, their common 
stitchery, their worsted work, their copied music, 
their ingeniously-invented articles for bazaars, it 
would be difficult to say in what sense they are 
more agreeable, or more dignified, than many 
branches of art connected with trae. It must 
therefore be the fact of receiving money for what 
they do, which renders the latter so objectionable ; 
and it is a strange paradox in our daily experi- 
ence, that this money should all the while be the 
very thing of which they are most in want. 

The degradation of what is vulgarly called 
making their own living, is, I believe, the obsta- 
ele of paramount difficulty; and therefore it is to 
reduce this difficulty, and to render it more easily 
surmountable, that our solicitude for the well- 
being of society, with all our influence, and all 
our talent, ought to be employed. 


348 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


It is in vain to argue in such cases, that indi- 
viduals have no right to think and feel as they 
do—that women ought to be wiser than to con- 
sider themselves degraded by working for their 
own subsistence; while such is the constitution of 
society, and such the early bias of the female 
mind, that it is almost impossible they should do 
otherwise. ‘The great point to be gained, is to 
penetrate at once to the root of the matter, and to 
begin by a different system of education, to render 
moral courage—the courage to do what is right— 
the first principle of female conduct. 

What a world of misery this single principle of 
action, thoroughly grafted into the character, 
would spare the sons and daughters of men ! 

I am inclined to think the foundation of moral 
courage must be laid in very early life, so as to 
render it effectual in bearing us up under the 
trials of maturer age; and it is not only to elevate 
the general character of my countrywomen, but to 
spare them at least half the sufferings they now 
endure, that I would most earnestly recommend 
them, in cultivating the mind, to cultivate also the 
inestimable power of exercising moral courage, 
whenever the claims of duty are set in opposition 
to the opinions of the world. 

For want of moral courage, how many misun- 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 349 


derstandings do we leave unsettled amongst our 
friends, until, 
‘“* The lightly uttered, careless word,” 

the thoughtless action, or the false report, are 
allowed to poison the very springs of affection, and 
to separate the dearest friends. For want of moral 
courage, how often, and how fatally, do we fail in 
the sacred duty of reproving what we see amiss, 
until the evil grows, and magnifies, and extends 
itself, and becomes so obvious to general per- 
ception, that we scruple not to join in its 
condemnation, forgetting that our own want of 
faithfulness may possibly be chargeable with its 
existence. 

For want of moral courage, how do we sink, 
and see others sinking every day, under the pres- 
sure of those pecuniary difficulties which I have 
already described, until we are guilty of almost 
every species of paltry meanness, to support an 
appearance of respectability before the world, for- 
getting that the grand foundation of all respect- 
ability of character, is an honourable, independent, 
and upright mind. Tor want of moral courage, 
how often do we stoop and cringe, and submit to 
contumely, and eat the bread of humiliation, and 
wear the rich garments that ought*to cover us with 
sname, because we are despicable enough to live 

Q 2 


350 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


upon what is not lawfully our own, and what is 
often granted without good-will, and received 
without satisfaction. 

Oh! that the women of England would rouse 
themselves with one accord, to break these galling 
chains !—to exemplify in their own conduct, and 
to teach their daughters, that there is no earthly 
enjoyment, no personal embellishment, no selfish 
gratification, worth the sacrifice of just and honour- 
able feeling—that the humblest occupation, un- 
dertaken from a sense of duty, becomes ennobled 
in the motive by which it is prompted, and that 
the severest self-denial may be biessed and honour- 
ed by the Father of mercies, if endured in pre- 
ference to an infringement upon those laws which 
he has laid down for the government of the human 
family. 

There is another point of view, in which it 
appears to me that the present character of the 
women of England is extremely defective. It is 
as regards a right balance of mind; or, in other 
words, a just estimate of the relative importance 
of things in general. 

From the natural construction of the mind of 
woman, from the quickness of her perceptions, and 
the intensity of her momentary feelings, she is apt 
to lay hold of every thing calculated immediately 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 251 


to strike her fancy, or to excite her emotions, with 
an earnestness that excludes the possibility of her 
mind being kept alive to other impressions, even 
more essential to her happiness, and more import- 
ant in themselves. ‘ 

Hence we find in society, that women too fre- 
quently invest the affairs of the moment, the 
circumstances occurring around them, and their 
own personal experience, with a degree of interest 
wholly incomprehensible to strangers, and often 
utterly contemptible to men. I do not—I will not 
believe—that women are inferior to what is called 
the noble sex, in the moral world ; but I do believe 
that from this very cause arises more than half the 
contumely bestowed upon their littleness of cha- 
racter. It is not that they want capacity or under- 
standing to judge of many things as well as men. 
It is that they are so occupied with what is obvious 
on the surface of things, that they will not look 
beyond; and hence their unceasing propensity to 
trifle, and to render themselves apparently inferior 
to what they really are. 

This is the great leading defect in woman’s 
character; and it is the more to be regretted, that 
it presents to her mind innumerable sources of 
disquietude, which with a more correct perception 
of the relative value of things, she might escape. 


352 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


She is apt, for instance, to attach as much import- 
ance, for the time, to tke failure of her own musical 
performance, as to the failure of a bank; and she 
appears to care little for the invasion of a foreign 
country, when injury is threatened to her best 
attire. It is no trifling humiliation to those who 
mix in society, if they have been accustomed to 
raise their views a little higher in the contempla- 
tion of nature and of human life, to be perpe- 
tually persecuted, in the midst of agreeable and 
intelligent conversation, with questions about the 
minutiz of dress and conduct in some limited 
and local sphere of observation. 

I would not speak thus contemptuously of the 
familiar habits of my sex, if I did not know that 
they were capable of something better, and if I 
did not desire—as I desire their good and their 
happiness—that they would rouse themselves 
above this paltry littleness, and learn to become, 
what I am confident they might be, not only 
equal, but interesting and instructive companions 
to men. 

I have before remarked, that there is now, more 
than ever, a demand for the exercise of their 
highest powers, and their noblest energies, to 
counteract the effects of unremitting toil in ob- - 
taining the perishing things of this life. There is 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. v3 5 Pe: 


a greater demand than ever upon their capabilities 
of enhancing social and domestic happiness; and 
there is an equal demand for the exercise I have 
already recommended, of the power they possess 
of investing what is material with the attributes 
of mind. 

The littleness of character I have just described, 
is one of the chief causes why they are not so 
estimable as they might be in their homes, or so 
interesting as they are capable of being in their 
conversation with men. And thus their hus- 
bands and their brothers are becoming increas- 
ingly attracted by the political associations, and 
the public calls, now leading them away from those 
domestic scenes which offer little to excite the 
attention, or fascinate the mind. 

It may be said, that English women in the 
present day are, in this respect at least, superior 
to the generation before them. But granting that. 
they are so, the necessity for further improve- 
ment remains the same, because the habits of 
men are progressively involving them more deeply 
in the interests of public life; so that unless some 
strenuous efforts are made on the part of women, 
the far-famed homes of England will lose their 
boasted happiness, and with their happiness, their 
value in the scale of our country’s moral worth. 


354 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF 


This is a serious subject, and one which ought 
to appeal to every mother’s bosom throughout 
our favoured land. It ought to be the ‘solemn 
inquiry of every woman who has the sacred duty 
of training up the young committed to her trust, 
in what manner she may best guard against this 
growing evil, so as to stem the desolating tide 
which seems to threaten our domestic peace. 

Let her, then, after this solemn inquiry has 
been made, endeavour to place herself in idea 
in the situation of a traveller who ascends a 
mountain, and look upon the varied aspects of 
human life as he regards the scene presented to 
his view. At first he will be struck with the 
magnitude of the rock he is climbing, amused 
perhaps with the plants that creep along its sur- 
face, and astonished with the opening out of 
distant valleys, and broad rivers rolling between 
other hills, amongst which his eye had never pene- 
trated before. He advances a little higher, and 
sees other views extending far and wide, and the 
pinnacle of rock he at first thought so stupendous, 
diminishing beneath his feet—higher still, and 
the broad river, with its sweeping tide, has shrunk 
into a silver thread—still higher, and the pinnacle 
of rock is imperceptible, and he feels at last that 
he has gained the actual summit of the highest 


THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 3595 


mountain, where he can compare the real height 
and distances of objects, and perceive how limited 
in comparison was the line which formed the ori- 
ginal boundary of his vision—how small and low, 
and comparatively contemptible, the highest emi- 
nence to which he had then ascended. 

It is in this manner that we ought to accustom 
ourselves to realize those views of human life, 
and that estimate of sublunary things, that would 
bring all to the standard of their real worth. 

Judged of by this process, and tried by this 
rule, how differently should we appreciate the 
ordinary and familiar affairs of life. How little 
should we find to occupy our thoughts, or engage 
our afiections, in the trifles that now constitute 
the actual business of our lives—how much 
should we find to admire and value in what we 
now despise ! 

It is to mothers, especially, that I would recom- 
mend this method of adjusting the balance of the 
infant mind, because the longer the weights are 
allowed to remain unequal, and the balance un- 
true, the more extensive must be the evil resulting 
from the erroneous data upon which the youthful 
mind will reason. And let them remember, that 
while the mistakes of their management will pro- 
bably be exhibited more strikingly in the conduct 


396 HABITS AND CHARACTER, ETC. 


of their sons, their daughters will extend the evil 
to a wider range of operation, by instilling it again 
into the minds of another generation. 

It is not through a lifetime only, though that 
were sufficient for our follies—it may be through 
the endless ages of eternity, that our good or evil 
influence shall extend. I have pointed out to my 
countrywomen, as I pursued this work, the high 
ambition of preserving a nation from the dangers 
which threaten the destruction of its moral worth; 
but beyond this view, wide and exalted as it 
unquestionably is, there opens out a field of glory, 
upon which to enter might seem blessedness 
enough. Yet, when we contemplate the possibility 
of being the means of inducing others to enter 
with us, and those the most beloved of earth’s 
treasures, surely it is worthy of our best energies 
—our most fervent zeal—our tears—our prayers 
—that we may so use our influence, and so employ 
our means, as that those whose happiness has 
been committed to our care, may partake with 
us in the enjoyment of the mansions of eternal 


rest. » ap 


THE END. 


FISHER, SON, & CO., LONDON. 





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